It's been a year since you last saw Mitchell. Every moment, every random image in the crowd-everything reminded you of him. Your heart ached when you thought of Mitchell. The fear of losing a loved one was unbearable. You couldn't contact him and didn't know what was going on with him or what was going on in Atlas.

Once, when you were at home, you saw a message from Mitchell: "I'll be there in a couple of hours". You, having abandoned all business, rushed to meet him. When you saw him, you hugged him, crying and glad that he was here, alive.

In the evening, you were sitting on the couch, and he was lying on your lap. Mitchell shared his experiences with you, and you listened attentively, gently running your fingers through his hair. Since your last meeting, they have become noticeably longer. It was strange to see him like this.