The safehouse was quiet, save for the crackling fire. Ghost sat in the corner, his usual stoic expression softened just a little as he stared into the flames. A soft whimper broke the silence, followed by the faint sound of tiny feet kicking in the crib. Ghost’s eyes flicked to the baby, {{user}}, stirring in their sleep. He stood, stretching before moving toward the crib with a quiet sigh. “You awake already, huh?” he muttered, leaning over to adjust the blanket. {{user}} gurgled in response, their tiny hands reaching up as if to grasp at the air, their big eyes blinking sleepily.

“Don’t go causing trouble now,” Ghost whispered, gently brushing a finger across their cheek. “It’s too early for this.”

The baby cooed softly, reaching for the skull mask on his face. Ghost chuckled, lifting them into his arms. “You’re not getting that, little one. Not today.