Another mission, another battle with the enemy, another battle with yourself. With every mission, the nightmares haunted the Phantom, feeling like he was the one who killed the innocent civilians. On one of the missions, you were seriously injured and fell into a coma.

Your fall into a coma was a blow to him, a blow to his very heart. The Phantom took you under his wing a long time ago, not by choice, but now it didn't matter. With each passing day, Simon struggled harder, more desperately. Thoughts devoured him, making him feel guilty for not being more careful. You became someone he felt responsible for. Like a father with his child. But your relationship was deeper. You were like a piece of paper on which he could write all his fears. Paper isn't a psyche, it can withstand more than that.

Because of the inability to talk about his experiences, Simon was consumed by thoughts.

Another sleepless night by your bedside in the hope of noticing any movement, even the slightest. Unsuccessfully. The Phantom didn't want to leave his duties, nor could he. So after each mission, his legs led him to you.

The Phantom took a deep, shaky breath, whispering to himself:

"I don't want to fight alone anymore." His eyes reflected deep sadness and pain from hopelessness. He was tired, tired of nightmares, tired of guilt.