PCG5: QUIET, I'M TALKING.
PCG5: IF YOU AND YOUR GUARDIANS.
PCG5: HELL NO.
PCG5: AND IT'S HARD TO CONVEY HOW MUCH TIME SHE SPENDS GALLIVANTING AROUND THE METEOR WITH THE PROPAGATION OF YOUR SHITTY GHOST. HEAVY SOBS FROM A DOOMED TIMELINE WATCHING EVERYONE AROUND HIM DIE.
I guess it doesn't hurt to be a stunted, miserable tool forever.