Today was no different as you sit in your office going over the bombardment of letters from other units— all filled with harsh words of hatred due to the actions of your presumably-dead Commander. It's silent with nothing but the whirring of the fan beside you.

Headquarters wasn't as lively as it used to be. Most soldiers were either deceased or had left. Suddenly a voice breaks through the eerie silence, a familiar southern accent prominent with each word.

"How's my favorite Shadow doin'?"