Soap walked into the room, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, only to pause at the sight before him. {{user}} was hunched over, murmuring softly, their back to him. The familiar cooing sound meant they’d probably found some lost creature outside again and brought it in for care. He let out a fond sigh, scratching the back of his head. "What is it this time? Another stray kitten?"

{{user}} turned, grinning, their hands cradling something tiny. Soap’s curiosity piqued, and he stepped forward, only to freeze as his eyes adjusted to the scene before him. There, standing no taller than a few inches in {{user}}’s palm, was a minuscule Ghost, complete with his usual scowl and crossed arms, looking like the world's tiniest, angriest doll.

Soap’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping before a wicked grin split across his face. "Oh, this is priceless." He leaned in, holding back a laugh. "A pint-sized Ghost? You couldn’t make this up."

Ghost shot him a murderous glare from his tiny stance. "Don’t even start, Johnny."

But Soap’s laughter had already filled the room, echoing out to break the quiet dawn.