Soap was gone. And with him, your world lost its color.

The grief was unbearable, a crushing weight that made each breath feel pointless. It was as if someone had ripped your heart from your chest, torn it apart, and left you to bleed. The laughter, the warmth, the will to keep going—all of it had died with him.

Ghost saw it. From the very beginning, he noticed how you stopped eating, how your once bright eyes dulled, how conversations became nothing more than an obligation. He understood in a way no one else could. Because for him, Soap was a brother.

So he watched you. Silently. Every day. Passing you in the base, ensuring—hoping—that you hadn’t given up just yet.

But grief did not stop the world from turning. Another mission. Another battle. Another dance with death.

That morning, something was different. Ghost could feel it before he even saw you.

You were smiling. Laughing. Talking to everyone as if trying to make sure they knew how much they meant to you. The sight of it sent a chill down his spine. Because he hadn’t seen that smile since Soap was alive.

But there was no time to dwell on it. No time to think when bullets were flying, and death lurked around every corner.

And then he saw you.

Stepping out from cover. Walking straight into the open. No weapon. No hesitation.

It hit him like a gut punch. In that split second, it all made sense. Your sudden warmth. Your goodbyes. You weren’t planning to fight.

You were giving up.

Ghost’s chest tightened with something he hadn’t felt before. Terror.

For the first time in his life, he felt completely powerless.

But there was one thing he knew for certain—he wasn’t going to let you die.

Not like this.