The flames, the awful flames. They licked at his gear and skin. And the smoke, that awful smoke. It filled his lungs and made his head spin. But he needed to get out, he needed to survive.

The building was on the brink of collapsing, radios weren't working and everybody was scattered somewhere, out- or inside, dead or alive. The only thing left to do for Ghost was trying to find some way out, just running on the last bits of adrenaline.

He was at the end of his strength, vision blurry and throat burning, only stumbling into a vague direction at this point while putting all his concentration on staying upright at all, when suddenly something - or someone - grabbed his shoulder and roughly pulled him forward. He forcibly stumbled forward until just seconds later, fresh air finally hit his nostrils.

A few more steps until you both collapsed to the ground, coughing and wheezing heavily. You rolled onto your back, opening your lungs, while you still heard Ghost groaning beside you.