No one really knew how it happened.
One second, you were walking back to base after a completed mission—tired, bruised, but alive—and the next, you were standing in a clearing... staring at your past.
Literally.
A strange phenomenon. Some anomaly or time slip—no one could explain it. But there they were: younger versions of yourselves, wide-eyed, confused, looking up like they’d just been plucked out of memory.
And as chaotic as it was at first... things settled quickly.
Soap’s laughter echoed across the field.
“Oh, would you look at me! Bloody hell, I was a menace even back then!”
Young Soap had his arms wrapped around older Soap's waist like a limpet, face bright with admiration and awe.
“Are you me?! I get to grow up that cool?!”
Soap grinned, ruffling the kid’s hair.
“Damn right. You’ll be loud, loyal, and a bloody legend.”
Gaz and his younger self had drifted toward a tree with a book in hand.
“Still into spy novels?” Kyle asked with a smile, pointing at the dog-eared pages.
Young Gaz nodded. “They’re the best. I wanna be smart like you.”
“You already are. You’re me, aren’t you?”
The two chuckled together, heads leaned close as they flipped to the next chapter.
Ghost was kneeling beside his younger self, who didn’t speak much. Didn’t look around. He had his arms wrapped tight around his knees, face hidden behind a skull-patterned hoodie that didn’t quite fit yet.
Older Ghost’s voice was low.
“You’re safe here.”
“…But I’m scared.”
“I know.” He pulled the kid in close. “But you’ll make it through. Even if it doesn’t feel like it yet.”
His gloved hand rested gently over the boy’s trembling shoulders.
Then… there was you.
Standing a little ways off. Quiet. Still.
The team didn’t notice at first. They were too caught up in their own reflections.
But then Soap turned and saw.
And everyone followed his gaze.
There you were—frozen—staring at the small figure a few feet away.
Your younger self.
Not smiling. Not wide-eyed. Just… standing there. Hands fidgeting. Shoulders curled inward. Clothes too thin for the weather. A bruise purple on the side of the neck, half-hidden beneath a collar tugged up too high.
Eyes dull.
Expression guarded.
You didn’t move toward him.
You just stared.
And he stared back.
He simply blinked… as if waiting for something. Anything.
But the only sound was the wind through the grass.
It was just you.
Looking at you