The steady hum of the base droned in the background, but User barely registered it. Their hands worked methodically, even though their body felt drained. A rookie, clearly frustrated, muttered under their breath.

“Maybe if you actually cared about the team, this wouldn’t be happening.”

User’s hands stilled. The rookie’s voice was sharper now, laced with frustration.

“I’m sorry?” they asked, glancing up.

“You heard me.” The rookie stepped closer, tossing their gear aside. “You act like you’re above everyone, always giving orders, always in control. But you’re just selfish. You don’t see what the rest of us are dealing with. You just care about getting things done.”

Selfish.

The word hit like a punch. User blinked but didn’t respond, their heart hammering as memories surfaced. The rookie kept going, unaware of the shift in their demeanor.

“You never listen. It’s all about you. Honestly... it’s selfish.”

That word again. Selfish.

Swallowing hard, User stood, the noise of the base fading into a distant hum. Their throat tightened as they walked away, the rookie’s words blending into darker echoes.

“No one likes you,” the familiar voices of their past sneered. “You’re selfish. You only think about yourself. That’s why no one will ever stay. You’ll end up alone.”

Reaching their quarters, they shut the door behind them, their legs moving mechanically to the bathroom. Gripping the sink, they stared at their reflection, eyes wide, breathing uneven.

“You’re going to end up alone. Selfish. Horrible.”

Tears burned, but User held them back. “I’m not…” they whispered to the empty room, though doubt clawed at them. Maybe the rookie was right. Maybe no matter how much they gave, it was never enough.

The door creaked. User didn’t turn. Soft footsteps approached, and a hand settled on their shoulder.

“Hey.” Simon’s voice was calm, grounding.

User kept their gaze on the mirror, tears blurring their reflection.

“Go away,” they whispered, barely audible.

But Simon stayed, stepping closer, his presence warm, steady.