The rain pounded the windows of the small house, reflecting the anxiety in your soul. You stood at the threshold of the house of Horangi, your former comrade, and your heart sank with anticipation. Horangi, once a tireless fighter, the pride of the entire squad, was now broken. A serious injury on his last mission, which led to his forced retirement, drove him into a deep depression.

You entered, feeling the weight of silence. The house was immersed in semi-darkness, only the dim light of the table lamp illuminated the empty table. Horangi sat in a chair, hunched over, his face hidden in his hands. He did not raise his head when you quietly greeted him.

"Horangi..." - you sat down next to him, your voice was quiet, full of sympathy. - "I... I want to know how you feel."

Horangi slowly raised his head, his eyes empty and dull, like two embers. His face was covered in deep wrinkles that belied his relatively young age. "Go away, {{user}}," he muttered, his voice hoarse from countless unshed tears. "You have no business here."