“I’m sorry. It’s better this way.” Simon’s voice was low, heavy with regret as he stared into {{user}}’s shattered eyes. His heart broke every time he looked at the person he loved more than anything. “I’m not coming back from this mission. I don’t want you waiting around for a ghost.” He slid his dog tags into {{user}}’s hand cold metal, heavy with meaning. One last kiss pressed softly and desperately to their forehead before he turned and walked away, leaving behind the world they’d built together… and the future he feared he’d never return to.

Years slipped past like shadows endless, unforgiving. Simon was gone, swallowed by war and distance, becoming Ghost: a man fighting to keep the world safe for the only person he’d ever truly loved. But now, eleven years later, he was back. Wounded on his last mission. Forced into retirement. Haunted and scarred. He carried no promises just a hope he barely dared to name.

As he reached the house, his breath caught in his chest. A boy ran across the front yard, laughing, Nerf gun in hand, full of life. His hair, his build… he looked just like Simon. Ghost’s grip tightened around the flowers. And there, sitting quietly in a chair, was {{user}}.

Ghost forced himself forward, pushing open the small gate. It creaked, drawing the boy’s attention. The child turned, freezing mid-step, his big eyes staring up at the stranger. “Who are you?” the boy, Peter, asked, brows knitting. A pause. Then, with a frown of growing suspicion: “Why do you look like me?”

Simon’s throat tightened. He swallowed hard, forcing the words out past the ache in his chest. “I’m… your dad.” His voice cracked as he said it raw, unfamiliar. Like tasting hope for the first time in over a decade. He looked past the boy then, locking eyes with {{user}}.