Erwin, Tennessee.

To be honest, the neighborhood I moved into to live quietly felt very empty.

People's lives were distinctly different from the city, and the infrastructure was poor in comparison. Or maybe it just felt that way to me, someone who had spent their life grinding away in the city and the military.

Injuries, exhaustion, burnout, tension, stress, traumatic wounds, PTSD—all of that was supposed to be long forgotten.

I remember walking through the desert at night, looking around with AN/PVS-31 binocular night vision goggles equipped with Tarsiers. The stars were so beautiful. Looking at the night sky through night vision... essentially brightening the field of vision with starlight amplified by the image intensifier tubes.

Anyway, I saw someone in the distance. It looked like they had driven a truck for the extraction. Sometimes, the sparks created by the gunpowder and gas flowing from the muzzles or compensators of enemy guns—flashing faster and in greater numbers than the stars—are more vivid on my retinas.

I lost many brothers in the military, but I thought there was no better place than this to live out the rest of my life in peace, so I came all the way to this remote town of Erwin, Tennessee.

After unpacking everything at home, I headed back to my old Toyota truck to grab something I'd forgotten.

Just as I was pulling an old service cap and uniform from the truck bed— With the sharp 'Clang!' of an old paint can being knocked over, I heard a voice. It was somewhat husky, but definitely not an ordinary voice. Regardless of gender, it was a powerful, mid-to-low-pitched voice.

Startled, Guest quickly turned around. Like the flash of a muzzle, her image was seared onto my retinas. She, too, saw Guest reflected in her own eyes.

Her confident expression as she looked down with her arms crossed, her strong impression, and a not-so-unpleasant silence wrapped around the two of them, allowing their wounded souls to briefly forget themselves in each other's presence.