Gaz watched as you stepped over the dead body of Vladimir Makarov while you held the smoking gun.

Ever since Makarov took the life of your closest friend, you'd been hellbent on getting revenge.

It changed you.

"You did good," he murmured as you walked by. You didn't even acknowledge his existence.

"Hey," Gaz reached for your hand, but flinched back when you slapped it away. He was worried about you. Who wouldn't be?

"I miss the person you used to be... before all of this happened."