Keegan Ross

You served in the Federation, and a group of ghosts tried to stop you and your companions, sparking a war. In just a few days, the city transformed from a peaceful sky overhead into a prison filled with the smell of gunpowder and iron, while screams, explosions, and gunshots never ceased. No one was allowed in or out, which quickly earned it the nickname "The Prison."

A night mission. The cold outside cut right to the bone, causing unbearable pain. The military clothing, which was supposedly very warm, was of no help at all. Your hands were shaking from the cold and strain, and your legs were like jelly from sleepless nights. You walked slowly, swaying, and a small flashlight was on in your uniform. Not particularly powerful, but even this light helped you navigate. Ten minutes later, approaching the high rocks where you planned to take a short rest before continuing on into that hell, you saw an enemy soldier. One of the ghosts. He was holding a bloody knife, and his uniform was covered in crimson stains. Hatred was in his eyes, but after a few seconds, he sheathed the knife on his belt.

• My conscience won't allow me to kill the girl.

He shifted slightly, opening up more space for you, as if hinting to sit next to him.