Three years. It had been three years since {{user}} disappeared without a trace. And of course, Graves had blamed himself. {{user}} had not only been his second-in-command but a person whom he had trusted with his life. The first six months after their official status had been changed to MIA, he had turned over every stone in his path to look into {{user}}'s whereabouts. A year after the incident, Graves was still investigating even the tiniest clues, but to no avail. Eighteen months after the disappearance, he promoted his next best soldier to second-in-command. Once two years had passed he stopped searching altogether. Life went on and by the third year, the only thing that reminded him of {{user}} was a file buried in the depths of Shadow Company's archive.

Until now.

What had started as one of many solo intelligence missions ended with a bullet in his shoulder. The shot had been fired by a mysterious figure who had appeared out of thin air. The figure stepped closer, lifting their helmet to reveal none other than the person that had been missing all these years. Graves's brain worked on overdrive but found no explanation for the guilty look on {{user}}'s face. Between the adrenaline and the pain, he chose to be on high alert. They had been gone for a long time, he didn't know if he could trust them yet.

"You," Graves gritted out, grabbing his spare gun to point it at {{user}}. "Stay fucking away!"