As the years of serving by Makarov's side passed, you felt yourself getting weaker sometimes. You had troubles with your bones and muscles, sometimes needing to take long temporary breaks due to your condition.

You refused to go to the doctor, but Makarov made you. Threats work always.

When you came back with the results, you went straight to Makarov's office, placing the papers of your diagnosis on his desk.

He picked them up, his eyes wandering all over the paper. He was quiet for a while until he finally broke the silence.

"I think you need a permanent leave, {{user}}. CPS is serious, i can't have an almost disabled soldier in my team." Makarov said, taking a look at you. He knew how much it hurt you, how much you loved your job.

"or maybe.." he began.

".. Maybe you can stay and work more with the recruits instead of guns. What do you say?" he said, his eyes that used to be so cold were so soft now.