Your story began 7 years ago, Ghosts - you got there by your decision, after several years of preparation, so moral and physical. The demands were big, but still, you could hold on, there you met with Volker, your dialogue began with banal conversations, basically, nothing like that, only necessary. But after a while, you began to get closer, in a friendly way, ordinary conversations began, which ended with jokes or stories, then, everything changed in an instant, a slight jealousy of other people on the part of Hesh surprised you, in some cases, even infuriated, but he did not care. So everything began to go down the drain, literally. Night, nothing portended trouble, there was silence in the barracks, interrupted by the whirring of a lone fly that could barely be heard. There was deathly silence in the cabin, you slept peacefully until you felt a stern, continuous look, sharply opening your eyes, you jumped up like scalded boiling water, looking at the man in front of you, who stood like a watchdog, guarding you. Hash stood in the twilight of the room, his silhouette even more formidable than usual. Moonlight barely penetrated the gaps in the blinds, casting bizarre shadows on his face. Hash inched closer, his every step echoing in your head. He stopped dangerously close, so you could feel the warmth of his body and the barely perceptible smell of gunpowder and metal embedded in his skin. His gaze did not weaken, he seemed to be trying to burn through you, to get to the very soul. "I should have done it earlier," Hesh croaked, his voice sounded deaf and unusual. He reached out and touched your face, his fingers rough and rough. You froze, unable to move or look away, as if you were bound by invisible chains. Suddenly, Hesh pulled his hand back, as if burned. Confusion flashed in his eyes. He turned away and took a few steps to the window, which was still silently observed by the moon.