Silas looked around Petras room. It was small, like all the rooms on the outpost. It was a one room dorm, with metal walls and a small bed. Her medals hung from a bulletin board, and her closet only held a few changes of clothes, none casual. These rooms were never built for comfort. Comfort was a foreign concept to the people of the outposts. Silas never minded, though. He never cared for expensive luxuries. Supplies were always cut thin, both in the Reef and on Earth. It wouldn't feel right for him to be wealthy when others starve on the streets.

Petra had a few pictures and drawings hanging up. Some on the bulletin board, others taped to various spaces around the shiny silver walls. Some of the drawing were of him. Or, how he looked three years ago. He'd aged quite a bit in those three years. He could've been mistaken for a different person now. His eyes lacked the same life, and he hadn't smiled that way in years. Or perhaps he'd always looked this way, and that was just how Petra saw him. Maybe she still saw him like that.

He lifted his palm and summoned Grey.

"Yes?" Grey said.

"Why me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you choose me? Out of all the dead people in the world, why me?"

"In all honesty, I have no idea. No ghost chooses their guardian. We just know somehow. You weren't looking for a motivational speech, were you?"

"No. I was curious, that's all." In all honesty, Silas might've appreciated the reassurance. For the past three years, all his thoughts toward himself had been negative. He had good reason, it's not like he'd done anything worth celebrating. He commited treason, with fairly selfish motives. His reasons for not contacting petra earlier were pure cowardice. He could have contacted her as soon as he landed in the tower, but he didn't. He didn't even tell her he was alive. He caused her pain, because he was afraid of what would happen. So, out for the blue, he sent his best friend to blindly deliver the news. He wondered how he'd fallen so low. When was the breaking point in his decency? The past three years he'd tried convincing himself it was bravery that kept his from pulling the trigger. But he knew all along that was a lie. He was afraid to die. But killing himself in the bathroom wasn't bravery either. He'd simply gotten so low that he didn't fear death anymore, cause whatever awaited him would've been better than life. There's a difference between being brave and just not being afraid. Right now, Silas wasn't sure what he was. He spent so long feeling utterly numb, that these emotions were foreign to him. He was afraid of them, but he wanted to face them out of bravery. He couldn't let himself grow numb again.

Grey looked around the room, floating about and scanning over things.

"Oh, that's you." he said, looking at the drawing. "Is this Petra's room then?"

"Yeah. That really looks like me?"

"Well you've changed your hair. But otherwise, exactly."

Silas smiled. It felt awkward and took a bit of effort. The muscles in his face had weakened a bit, but he was still capable of it. This made him happy, for some odd reason.

"Do you think I'll be a good guardian?" Silas asked.

"I do." Grey replied. "You have a certain wisdom that most guardians lack."

Silas smiled again and sat down on the bed. "Thank you." He said. "That's reassuring."

"Anytime. But listen. Petra's going to find out sooner or later. And-"

"I know. I'm going to tell her tomorrow. She's already emotional enough as it is, she doesn't need to know that I tried to kill myself."

"Fair enough. But you're going to be out in the field tomorrow, fighting Fallen. I get the feeling you haven't touched a gun since you landed in the tower. You're going to die, and I'm going to have to revive you. I'd be best to tell her before that happens."

"Alright. The guardian part will be easy. I suppose I don't need to say it all at once." Silas laid down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling and pulled the tablet from his coat pocket. "I think I'll read through Variks' files."

He already knew most of what was in there, just through his experience with the Reef, the Wolves, and the Kings. They included possible locations of the files that he'd dropped, however, none of them were accurate. He never made it to the rendezvous point, where he was going to meet the Wolves. His ship was shot down by a Reef agent, and he supposedly dropped the files while going down. In reality, he dropped them as soon as he noticed he was being followed. This was about seventy miles from any of the locations in Variks's report. The info on the Kings was all useful, however. And he was sure it was accurate. There were three high ranking King captains in the area, each with generous amounts of guards. He recognised one of the names, Grakis the Hound. It had been years since he last thought about him. He'd fought his soldiers long before the Reef Wars, during scouting missions on Venus. He'd have to share it with Petra later, if Variks hadn't already.

He sat down on Petra's bed, and leaned against the wall. He hadn't realized just how tired he was until now. It had been a long day.

Petra walked into her room about an hour after Silas did. He was already asleep on her bed, completely sprawled out. She changed into something more casual, and laid down next to him. It was a small bed, made for a small room, but they'd always made it work. She couldn't imagine the day he had. She doubted he expected to be arrested the way he was. And… she knew he felt despair over the whole ordeal, and this was, in a way, her own fault. She warrented his arrest and gave the officers the impression that she didn't care for Silas, which gave Silas the same impression. Silas was nowhere near innocent either, but that didn't matter to her.

Still, they were together now, and that's all that was important. Yesterday, she would've thought the very notion to be impossible. Yet here they lay, in each other's arms, her slowly drifting off to sleep. Things hadn't been this good in over three years.

She woke to Silas mumbling. He was sweating and had began twitching a bit. He progressively became louder and more frantic, as the mumbling went on.

"No… no… I already told you everything, I'm nobody… no… Please! I don't know anything! ...no, no, NO! Not this again… Please! …hehe you fucking bastard… let me die, Grey. Why not? The torture… no more, no more, no more-"

Petra had heard enough. She shook him awake.

"Silas! Wake up, it's all a dream."

Silas's eyes shot open, and he sat up. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Silas…" she said touching his face.

"I'm alright. At least I am now. Did I tell you what happened after I was exiled? The Wolves found me. They were furious, they thought I broke our agreement. I was tortured everyday for six months, until one day I was rescued by guardians and taken to the Tower. I've had these dreams almost every night since."

She was fighting to hold back tears. "You… you were begging for death. Did it really get that bad?"

"There were times that I thought about it. But I never really wanted to die. I had you."

"I looked for you, you know. I wanted to bring you back and hide you somewhere. And if I couldn't do that, I wanted to at least give you a proper burial. I searched for over a year, for any trace of you, just one clue that you were still out there somewhere. Eventually I had to stop and accept that you were gone. But I never stopped thinking about you."

"Petra, I need to tell you something. And I'm not going to say it all at once. It's going to be painful for both of us, but you need to know this. It'll may even help keep us alive on the field. Petra, a lot has happened since I last saw you, I've… changed. I'm a… here, why don't I just show you."

He held out his palm, and a ghost appeared several inches above it.

"Petra, meet Grey. He's my ghost. I'm a guardian, now."