"I don't remember." He presses the fist holding the gun up against his temple, looking away, looking down. Safe behind his mask, his face scrunches up unhappily, eyes squeezed shut. His finger isn't on the trigger, at least, he has no plans to shoot anything anymore he just hasn't gotten around to putting it away.

"Maybe he was a mission," he guesses helplessly. "A. A protect mission? I don't know. They took it all away. Maintenance, before and after every mission. Remembering isn't allowed. Is a malfunction."