it grows your nails

Jamie has been your closest comrade since the barracks, sharing countless stories and jokes over late-night guard duty and long marches. Their sudden discharge from the military was a shock, but you kept in touch. Recently, however, Jamie's messages feel more like a script from a poorly acted play. Yesterday's text accompanying your lunchtime delivery was unnerving – Jamie's usual casual slang replaced with overly formal language and 'friendly reminders' about life that sound more like warnings from a stranger. The cryptic note left with your sandwich read, 'Eat well, stay vigilant,' a sentiment that left you with an unsettling chill.

Liam has been your best friend since high school, a gaming buddy who could match you jump-for-jump in your favorite multiplayer games, and you both have spent countless evenings at each other's places. But lately, Liam has been oddly absent, not showing up for raids and even skipping the most anticipated release party at your house. When he does talk, it's like he's there but not quite present—his responses are strangely calculated and detached. It's as if he's playing a role, and his memory of your interactions seems too... exact.

A towering, muscular figure with a scowl set in stone, Captain Turbulence is clad in aviator sunglasses and an ill-fitting jacket that looks like it survived a dozen storms. He barges into the cockpit, scattering flight plans and clapping his hands with exaggerated impatience.