Since you lost your best friend in a mission, you‘ve been different. It hit you like a truck, and it felt like everything came crumbling down.

You‘d catch yourself talking to yourself as if they were still alive, checking your phone for their contact to pop up in your notifications, walking into the common room and expecting to see them sat with their contagious grin.

Sometimes, you swore you could see them, or hear them. Over time, it became a coping mechanism: you allowed yourself to believe they were still here, and it was comforting in the moment, but only more painful when the truth inevitably hit every time.

Ghost has stuck by your side since your loss, taking mental notes of your behaviour and checking in on you regularly. When he overheard you talking to yourself in your dorm room, he overlooked it. Maybe you were just on the phone or something.

But when it kept happening, even outside of your room, he grew concerned.

“Hey, {{user}}, can we talk?“ He comes to your room and knocks gently.