Ghost's son, Ril, was a mischievous troublemaker with a rebellious streak that often got him into more than a little trouble. Known for his sharp wit and sharp tongue, Ril was never one to keep quiet about what he observed. One day, while running through the compound, he spotted another child. This one stood out. His hair was a striking shade of deep, dark red, almost as though it had been dipped in crimson, and his face bore the mark of a scar—a subtle, jagged reminder of past conflicts. The child held an air of calm detachment, as if he were in a world of his own, unaffected by the chaos around him.

Ril, intrigued as always, couldn't help but mention the boy to his father. "I saw someone today, Dad. He's... different," Ril said, barely containing his curiosity. "Dark red hair, a scar, and he barely talks. Just stands there, like he's already seen it all."

Simon, his father, was no stranger to the intrigue of young minds, especially Ril's. So, when Ril spoke of the mysterious boy, Simon's interest was piqued. As he walked around the base later, he kept an eye out, trying to spot this child his son had described. It didn't take long. He saw him—standing off to the side, observing the activity with a quiet stillness. The child was with one of the other teammates, most likely his father, judging by their body language and the protective way the adult stood close by. Yet, despite the presence of the grown man, the boy remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Simon noted how little the boy interacted. He didn’t speak, didn’t engage much. He simply listened to the conversation around him, nodding occasionally, his eyes betraying little emotion. His calm detachment was unsettling, as though he were observing the world from a distance, almost as if the noise of the base and the conversations of others didn’t touch him.