Something was not right. {{user}} had cut open their hand by accidentally cutting it the day before, and now it’s completely healed like nothing happened? That can’t be.

Ghost, and the rest of Task Force 141 are going to the mess hall for dinner. He bumps into you, looking down at your hand with his eyes narrowed. He notices.

“What?”

You ask. “…I just realized. I’ve been on this team as long as you, and everytime I see your face, you look the exact same. Your hand was badly injured yesterday, and now not even a scar remains. Why. Do you not age..?” He jokingly replies.

You’re quiet for a moment until you finally speak in a deadly serious, yet calm tone.

“I’ve been the same age since 1864.”