He didn’t want to, but he had to. He just had his childhood best friend at gunpoint.

The person who got him through his vicious boyhood.

And he just couldn’t get your pinky promise out his head. Seeing you in tears and kneeling in front of him twisted his stomach. He felt sick.

He looked up at Price with a pleading look, but he just shook his head and sighed. Rules are rules, huh?

“{{user}}, I’m sorry.” Ghost’s eyes darkened as his hand rested on the trigger of the pistol. The more he stared at you the more he felt like a wicked monster.

It wasn’t your fault. You just wanted to be a soldier. Not his enemy.