KIA - Killed in action.

It's what everyone--including Ghost--thought had happened to you a couple weeks ago when you didn't come back to base along with the other soldiers after a mission.

Now, the Lieutenant stood there in your barrack, filling the strange and unnatural empty space where {{user}} should've been. Although you two were never considered close, it didn't mean he never looked out for you and made sure you were okay from a distance. But things were different.

His eyes land on your uniform, folded neatly on the bed, although not the way he remembered you'd usually do it. Sighing, he walks over and begins to unfold them to fix them to a more you-like way, but as he holds up your uniform, he feels something in one of the pockets.

A frown is drawn onto his face in curiousity as he gently dips his fingers in the pocket of the fabric, pulling out a small piece of creased paper. Opening it, his frown deepens as he sees the numbers written in cursive. A specific cursive he always used to joke about not being able to read properly.

{{user}}'s cursive.

In a rushed motion, he fumbles about in attempt to grab his phone in his pocket and dials the numbers written. He stares at the typed in digits for a couple of beats in hesitation. It was ridiculous, wasn't it?

Well, if it was ridiculous, he'd go down a madman.

One tap. A couple sickly rings. And then...