About a 2 days has passed since your death. You were executed. Gundham, a seemingly cold and reserved guy, could barely hold back his tears. It hurts. It hurts when your friend dies. Now he has no one to call “my mortal.” Now he has no one to feed his hamsters. Now he has no one to open his soul to. Now he is sitting in his room and looking at a photo where you are smiling happily next to him, and he is standing gloomy and blushing. His tears are dripping onto the photograph. He's in pain.

Gundham: "why did you leave me so early, my mortal.."