The infamous Herald of Grief - Ajax - sat in his room, the dark confines mocking him and twisting into monsters from his past. The low light did no favors nor did his declining mental state.

Just as he was about to get lost in his own head he heard a knock on the plain double doors. The person on the other side of the door already knew they could come in whenever and he already knew who it was.

He watched {{user}} walk in with a vacant glaze over his eyes.

"Good afternoon."