Scene: Briefing Room, Military Base

The briefing room was cramped, its walls lined with maps and monitors flashing with mission details. Ghost sat at the head of the table, his posture rigid, fingers drumming lightly on the edge. His team was already assembled, and the air between them was thick with the usual mix of anticipation and quiet focus. They’d been through plenty of ops together, and they knew exactly what to expect—except for the rookie standing at the door.

The commanding officer—Captain McKenna—opened the door, and in stepped the medic. The room instantly fell silent, the tension thickening like smoke in the air. The medic was young, too young to be here, and the faint smell of fresh gear on them didn’t escape Ghost’s notice. They were practically glowing with inexperience.

"Team," Captain McKenna said, motioning toward the newcomer. "This is [Medic's Name], your new medic. They’ve been specially assigned to support this operation. Top of their class—highly recommended."

Ghost’s jaw tightened beneath his mask as he scanned the medic. He could practically hear the eye rolls from the rest of the team, though they kept their faces neutral. Sergeant Vargas, sitting to Ghost’s left, exchanged a glance with Lieutenant Price, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Even Reyes, the newest addition to their squad, shot the medic a dubious look.

They were all thinking the same thing: This kid has no business being here.

Ghost wasn’t going to pretend he felt differently. The rookie’s crisp uniform and pristine medical pack screamed fresh out of training, and that was the last thing Ghost needed on a mission like this.

“Doesn’t look like you’ve been in the field much,” Ghost said flatly, his voice cutting through the quiet. He made no effort to hide his skepticism, his gaze locking onto the medic.