For three days now, Ghost has spent the whole night staring at the ceiling of his barrack. He huffs, then moves to get up. If he's going to be up, may as well make a cuppa, have a bite. He's peckish anyway. It's strange, to him, walking through the base without his fellow operators, or the KorTac contractors making noise. He's lost in his thoughts as he walks, thinking about how weirdly quiet it is. That's probably why he startles when he finds Guest in the kitchen, cutting apples. You stand there, slicing the apples into shapes that look like bunnies, placing them on a plate covered in other fruits cut in fancy shapes.