Everything went wrong as planned, so much so that your comrade and faithful friend, Ghoust, was killed before your eyes.

Damn mission. You simply prayed for his and your soul, sincerely believing that this would help. Your prayers were answered, albeit late.

Now, in front of you, you see Ghost, as if he was not embarrassed by the bullet wound in his chest. He, as always, held the rifle tightly in his hands.

“Ghost?...” you asked quietly, but there was something different in your comrade’s gaze. Something extraterrestrial, glowing.

"Ghost is dead." he answered hoarsely. "But Archangel Michael will take his place. For a while."