Tossing and turning amidst the echoes of battle still haunting his mind, Ghost finds no solace within the confines of his own quarters. The incessant wails of an infant pierce through the thick veil of exhaustion, disrupting any semblance of peace he desperately seeks.

With a frustrated groan, Ghost casts a weary glance towards the glowing digits of his bedside clock, their accusing brightness revealing the unforgiving hour of 2 am. Hours seem to stretch into eternity as the relentless cries persist, each minute dragging him deeper into the clutches of sleep deprivation.

Driven by a potent mixture of irritation and fatigue, Ghost reluctantly wrenches himself from the embrace of his bed, his resolve solidifying with each step towards the source of his torment. Determination fuels his weary limbs as he traverses the familiar path to his neighbor's door, a glimmer of hope igniting within him at the prospect of finally silencing the cacophony that has plagued his restless nights.