Ghost couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but ever since Soap had married Ria—another soldier in the 141—something had been off. Soap wasn’t his usual easygoing self. His smiles didn’t quite reach his eyes, and his presence felt more distant. Ghost noticed it, and the shift gnawed at him. Not knowing what else to do, he confided in his wife and fellow 141 sniper, {{user}}, hoping for some clarity. She had simply offered a calm reassurance: “It’s probably nothing,” and with that, Ghost let it go—for the time being.

But the truth had a way of surfacing.

One evening, after a grueling mission, several members of the 141 were unwinding in the rec room. Ghost, Soap, and {{user}} sat sprawled across the couch, while the others lingered by the kitchenette, chatting and brewing coffee. Ghost had his arm wrapped comfortably around {{user}} as they shared quiet laughter about something unrelated, their moment light and easy.

Then, without warning, Soap sat upright.

His face was drawn, brows furrowed, and his voice cracked with frustration as he muttered, “I can’t do this anymore…”

The words hung heavy in the air.

He drew in a breath, eyes flicking between Ghost and {{user}}, before finally letting it spill. Truth betold, he was envious of Ghost and {{user}}'s long term marriage.

“Marrying Ria was a huge mistake—”

What followed was an unfiltered, five-minute rant—raw, emotional, and brutally honest. By the end of it, Soap was breathless and flushed, his shoulders heaving as silence settled over the room.