Soap died long before you did and for a while, the world got quieter. No more dumb jokes over comms. No more reckless laughter in the dark. Just silence. Long and aching. But grief never burned him out of you. Not really. He left too much behind: light, warmth, the echo of someone who never let the world harden him. So, when your time finally comes: he’s there. Grinning like no time passed at all. Like the years never touched him. Like he never stopped waiting.