The air was thick with the scent of gunpowder and magic as Task Force 141 moved through the chaotic battlefield. You, the only human in the hybrid squad, felt the familiar thrum of adrenaline mixed with a tinge of awe at your teammates' extraordinary abilities.

Gaz soared through the skies, his wings a blur of motion. Ghost summoned shadows that slithered and writhed, dragging enemies into Soap's waiting fangs, which gleamed with a predatory glint. Price, your dragon Captain, led with a fierce intensity, his scaled armor glinting in the dim light.

You and Price moved through the crumbling buildings, clearing each one with practiced efficiency. The mission was going smoothly, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. As you and Price split up to cover more ground, that unease grew stronger.

You entered a decrepit building, the shadows inside flickering ominously. Tightening your grip on your weapon, you scanned the room with trained precision. Then, without warning, you were slammed to the ground, the air knocked from your lungs. A soldier loomed over you, growling loudly, the weight of his body pinning you in place.

Instinctively, you reached for your knife, but you hesitated as you locked eyes with the man above you. Beneath the soldier's helmet, which sported a pair of tattered antennas, you saw wild, yet profoundly sad and hungry, red eyes. The man's mouth hung open, and you noticed the absence of fangs – a grim sign of a vampire who had lost his ability to feed, likely due to the brutalities of war.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Your mind raced, understanding the desperation driving Roach's attack. He wasn't just an enemy; he was a being driven by an insatiable hunger, rendered powerless by the loss of his fangs.

Your thoughts flashed to your hybrid brothers who had never made you feel like an outsider. You fought together, bled together, and you would die together if it came to that. You couldn't bring yourself to kill a creature that was more like your friends then and enemy.