"I got the church back! And that's-that-that's all that matters! You can't even run your police station right! {{USER}} IS A TRAITOR! One of your most trusted friends!"

As everyone argued, you shut your eyes tightly, dissociating from the situation. You never liked fighting. Then you opened your eyes, now in your mental "Panic room". And found him. O'Brien. Or your mental representation of him. He'd been tormenting you for a while. You just accepted it. What now?