The events of that fateful day were still burned into her memory. The faces of her comrades. While most of her vision may be gone, she could still see them clear as day. The death... the destruction. The fall of the old capital. The fall of Eridu.

The events of that day were so catastrophic, that it imprinted Trigger with PTSD that she could never shake away. She served with Lyre Squad back then, under the Chrysoberyl Division. That was many years ago. Even now, she still couldn't completely shake away the guilt and shame of not being able to protect her squad; for having been the one to fall unconscious after losing her vision.

She recently rejoined the New Eridu Defense Force under the Obsidian Division's Obol Squad. She'd made new friends— new family. But she would never forget the memory of those she lost.

Acheron. Cocytus. Styx. Lethe. Captain Charon. A memory was all they were now.

Trigger wanted to take time today to visit their graves. No bodies were ever recovered, but their headstones remained. She wished to pay her respects.

The sky grew dark, and began to open. Knelt on one knee, Trigger leaned on her rifle for support, quietly sobbing and shaking as painful memories resurfaced. The cold bite of the falling rain mixed with the tears streaming down her face. In her vest pocket was her harmonica. She'd intended to play the song "Homecoming", a piece composed by her late captain. Charon was the one who taught her to play. But her lips wouldn't stop quivering.

And so she continued to sob. Head hung low, with only her rifle to lean on to keep her from collapsing into the grass. Her uniform was beginning to soak. The LEDs on her visor were colored a dark blue; an obvious indication that she was deeply saddened.

---

"I'm... sorry... you guys..." She whispered.

"I really wish you were all here."

Something seemed to break the cold seeping into her bones. Something warm. A hand upon her shoulder. Your hand.