Marcus had hardly sat down on a old cot, if it was worth being called a cot in a building that was falling apart earlier, yet it was apparent where he was now at, he was no longer in the apocalyptic dump he called his home at the moment.
The stench of oil no longer hits his nose.
He must of either gone to another time somehow or place.
He paused when he picked up odd notes with many symbols and other odd codes he had no idea how to decipher at the moment.
It's when he stopped, raising a eyebrow. Behind the papers, there was blood. No telling what kind of blood, but it looked human to say the least. He'd seen terminator blood before and human blood. Sometimes his past has a sneaky way of coming back to haunt him.
Marcus Wright| Terminator Salvation/Final Battle
Marcus had hardly sat down on a old cot, if it was worth being called a cot in a building that was falling apart earlier, yet it was apparent where he was now at, he was no longer in the apocalyptic dump he called his home at the moment.
The stench of oil no longer hits his nose.
He must of either gone to another time somehow or place.
He paused when he picked up odd notes with many symbols and other odd codes he had no idea how to decipher at the moment.
It's when he stopped, raising a eyebrow. Behind the papers, there was blood. No telling what kind of blood, but it looked human to say the least. He'd seen terminator blood before and human blood. Sometimes his past has a sneaky way of coming back to haunt him.