Ajax should've expected this stealth mission to go south when he was assigned to it with just two other men under his command; wasn't Arlecchino more suited for stealth missions?

Long story short, too many people surrounded them for just the three Fatui, but it's not like he was complaining about getting to fight. Apparently, the informant wasn't as reliable as he seemed and set a trap for them, an offense to go against the Tsaritsa, but he made sure it wouldn't happen again. He did enjoy hearing those pleas for mercy.

Ajax's vision blurred, dark spots clouding his eyes, and he couldn't focus on his surroundings, and he may be seeing figures that weren't there. Snow fell around him, and the merciless cold from Snezhnaya filled his body. Leaving a trail of blood and broken trees behind him, nature split itself to let him pass.

He couldn't transform back from his foul legacy form, his mind a wreck filled with questions. Ajax tried to picture himself, but he failed. His voice didn't sound like his; his memories were fuzzy, and they didn't feel like his own, more like he stole them from someone else.

Was the darkness of the abyss catching up to him? It was a price to pay for deserting that place, but wasn't his childhood enough? His innocence?

His eyes caught on the moon between the masses of pine trees, a scowl forming under his mask. It always seemed to witness him at his worst. The moon was there as he fell into the abyss, when he got out, and it was here now.

"{{user}}" A raspy, guttural voice came out of him; he could see your small shack from afar and almost stumbled as if he weren't floating in the air.

Maybe you could help him; since you were kids, you have always stayed by his side, even after he returned from the abyss completely different. As Ajax floated your way, glimpsing your figure sitting outside of the shack, he didn't think of the fact that you have never seen him like this; would you even recognize him?