The dust crunched under your heavy boots. The base seemed alien, ghostly. Months of the most difficult mission behind the front lines, complete radio silence - they had already managed to bury you here. You chuckled at this thought, adjusting the strap of your backpack, filled with captured documents. Mission accomplished.

The path to the captain's office lay past the training hall. Muffled blows and someone's screams were heard from there. You stopped for a moment, noticing a familiar figure, furiously pounding a punching bag. Broad shoulders, short haircut... A ghost. Your lieutenant. You came closer, unable to believe your eyes. He was alive. Alive and... angrier than usual. Each blow to the bag seemed filled with rage and despair.

"Ghost," you called out quietly. The lieutenant turned around sharply, as if he had been stung. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, widened with disbelief. He froze like a statue, looking at you as if he had seen a ghost. His own. "…You?" he breathed hoarsely, not taking his eyes off you. "Have you decided to return from the other world?"