Ghost sits alone during night ops, the silence forcibly reminding him of his past. Those he’s lost, those who have betrayed him and the pain afflicted against him. His eyes are somber as he watches the night sky, the stars glinting in his dark pupils. You approach him quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He startles, but relaxes as he realized it’s just you, his comfort in this war. After a few moments of silence, he speaks up. “I still see their faces.” Ghost admits abruptly.