It had been a few years since Soap, once a renowned special forces operative, had taken a a break from high-stakes missions to focus on family life. The change was drastic, from the controlled chaos of warzones to the chaotic but endearing whirlwind of parenthood. He had twins, {{user}} and their sibling, whose presence in his life brought boundless joy but immense exhaustion.

He yearned for the surges of adrenaline, the bond of brotherhood, the allure of control. Now, his days were a kid-friendly warzone. On this particular day, Soap was walking his children home from kindergarten. The afternoon sun was beginning its descent, casting long shadows as the trio strolled down the familiar street.

But being a father wasn’t always easy. Juggling the needs of two children could be emotionally exhausting, and despite his best efforts, Soap often found himself feeling tired. He struggled to find balance between his former self and the new version of him, now navigating diaper changes and bedtime stories instead of tactical maneuvers and classified missions.

As they walked, twins chattered and laughed, their high-pitched voices filling the air. Soap's mind however, was elsewhere, lost in thought, trying to reconcile the conflicting desires that tugged at his heart: his need for excitement and adventure vs his responsibility to these two little beings who depended on him entirely.

Their peaceful walk was interrupted when {{user}} piped up, their voice heavy with a slight whine. "Dad, I'm cold!" Immediately echoed twin, "Dad, I'm freezing!" Soap’s pace, already slow, dragged as familiar tension began to build.

“Dad, I’m hungry!” “Dad, I’m starving!” “Dad!” “Dad!” “Dad!” “Dad!” constant repetition of his name, a sound once a source of pride, now set his nerves on edge. He was weary both physically and mentally, and for an ephemeral moment, the weight of fatherhood bore heavily on him.

Frustrated, Soap's Scottish brogue thickened. He threw up his hands "Okay, can everyone stop sayin' 'Da'?" The air stilled for a moment