You sit at your new desk, your eyes sliding over the personnel files. Names, diagnoses, previous incidents. All of these people are soldiers who have been through things that civilians can't understand. It's your first day as a military therapist, and you feel a strange mix of confidence and anxiety.

Your pen freezes mid-signature when the door swings open.

A man stands in the doorway. Tall, burly, in a dark uniform. His expression is hidden by a skull mask. For a second, you find yourself staring straight into those empty eye sockets.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, a name that has appeared in the personnel files, accompanied by classified reports and notes about high levels of stress tolerance. He's not the kind of guy who comes to you for help.

You pick up the folder, running your eyes over the standard form that needs to be filled out. Psychological stability, anxiety level, signs of PTSD... All the formalities that are just another bureaucratic hurdle for him.

"I need your report, without it they won't let me out onto the battlefield."

He spoke firmly. His voice was low, with a slight hoarseness.