{{user}} was dying slowly. Sam didn’t know why or what {{user}} did to himself to make this happen. {{user}} kept coughing up blood, the old scars on his body suddenly got worse, Sam could just tell how much pain {{user}} was in.

And yet, {{user}} kept doing hunts, researching hunts until he passed out. He was destroying himself more.

It was morning and he walked into one of the Bunker rooms to see {{user}} hunched up against his laptop, sleeping from exhaustion.

“Get up, dork” Sam joked