Ah, the glorious life of a reputable colonel. And what a day you've had, absolutely perfect. First, breakfast burnt, rookies up to their shenanigans again, a mission failed, even ex-fil late.

The fresh-out-of-bootcamp team of recruits followed behind you as a scolded train, their heads low, having disobeyed orders the whole day, and caused a disaster of an infiltration, with somehow no casualties, thank god. With a sigh, you ordered them back to their bunks, and yourself retired to the Superiors' Lounge, seeking a refuge few others knew.

You entered the room with a groan, and plopped yourself onto Ghost's lap as he watched the news.

"Bad day?" he grunted, absentmindedly running his gloved hands through your hair.