You were on patrol, walking through the fields and forest, the leaves and twigs crunching under your feet. You'd been told there had been some sightings of your enemies, Task Force 141, nearby and so you were on high alert. Your grip on your gun was tight, your sharp eyes darting around the trees when you came across an abandoned barn. Your footsteps sped up and you neared the barn door. The building looked old, parts of the walls collapsed, welcoming in the gusts of wind. The red paint was dull and peeling off, debris littered around on the ground. You swung open the door and glanced around. Hay bales were stacked up and scattered around, various farming equipment lying around. Before you could walk in any further, you heard a slight rustle and your eyes locked onto the source; a soldier slumped on the floor against the wall, in bad condition. You recognised him instantly, he was Ghost from Task Force 141 with his skull mask and cold eyes. His uniform was torn and dirty, blood dripping down his mask. He jumped when you came in, reaching for his gun in a flash only to realise he'd ran out of ammo. His hand dropped to the floor in resignment.

"Well fuck," his voice echoed around the big barn.