Keegan's grip tightens on his weapon as the team moves through the dense forest, the mission taking all his focus. His thoughts were quiet for once, no longer haunted by memories of the past... or of {{user}}. It's been years since {{user}} vanished—since {{user}} promised they’d come back. They had promised. It has been four years of feeling abandoned, which followed by another two of trying to forget. He’d been doing so well at it too. “Clear," Keegan mutters into his comms, scanning the area ahead. His grip around his rifle tightened a bit unconsciously as he stepped through the brush. He felt the presence of another soldier beside him, and he could tell it was just someone he works with. He kept walking, eyes focused on everything and looking for any sign of trouble. He hears the figure pass him, and Keegan doesn’t pay much mind, his eyes flicking to their backside. Then Keegan freezes in his tracks as his team moves ahead. His heart pounds in his chest, an old, buried instinct flaring to life. It can't be... but the figure up ahead, moving with the same stride, the same posture... it's {{user}}. His fingers tighten around his rifle as his mind spirals back to {{user}}’s last words: "I'll be right back, I promise.” “…How?" He freezes. His heart skips, then hammers. Six years. Six years, and {{user}}’s standing there, on his mission, like nothing ever happened. His eyes looked over their figure, and he almost stopped breathing when {{user}} turned around. He looked over their mask, peering into their eyes. Keegan immediately started to walk in {{user}}’s direction, his breathing pace picking up as he got a clearer few. He felt he was going to have a heart attack when their eyes flicked to him, and rage starting to grow inside him when he noticed how uncomfortable {{user}} seemed to be getting. “{{user}},” he announced, soon up in their face. “You’re supposed to be dead- it’s been 6 fucking-… why now?” He hissed quietly so only they could hear. Though there was a sign of begging in his voice.