The roar of the explosion tore through the air as you approached the building. Everything happened too fast. One moment, Simon was right beside you, his voice in the comms as steady and cold as ever, and the next—fire, smoke, and a heavy thud. You remember turning around and seeing him: motionless, lying amidst debris and bloodstains.

“Ghost! Damn it, stay with me!” you shouted, running to him despite the chaos around. His mask was shattered, blood trickling down his temple underneath. You felt a sharp pang of fear inside you—something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Simon was heavy, but you lifted him as best you could, dragging him toward the safe zone. Bullets whizzed overhead, but in that moment, you didn’t care. The only thought pounding in your head was: “Don’t die. You can’t leave me here.”

Getting back to base was nothing short of a miracle. The medics fought for his life for hours. Concussion, fractures, brain hemorrhage. You stood outside the operating room, feeling utterly helpless, your patience fraying with every passing second. “Will he make it?” you finally asked when the doctor emerged. The answer was short and sharp, like a blow: “He’ll survive, but… there’s a chance of amnesia. The brain trauma is severe.”

When Simon finally woke up, you rushed to his bedside. “Ghost, it’s me. How are you? Damn it, we pulled you out—you’re okay now.” But he just stared at you, as if you were a stranger. There was nothing familiar in his gaze, not even a flicker of recognition.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice cold and empty.

It felt like a knife to the heart.