The mission wasn’t supposed to hit this hard. Task Force 141 was sent to rescue a group of abducted children taken by a terrorist cell, deep in a crumbling city half-swallowed by war. For the team, it’s another dangerous but clear objective. For you— this time— it’s personal.

You’ve always been the quiet one. The one who doesn’t drink or smoke, doesn’t flirt, doesn’t follow the rest when they head out to unwind after a mission. A small cross chain hides under your gear, and you’re often seen whispering a prayer before deployment or touching your dog tags like they’re something holy.

You’re not preachy; you just believe.

Though, no one really knows that your faith came from loss. Years ago, your two younger siblings were taken the same way these children were. They never came back. Since then, faith has been the only thing that’s kept you from breaking completely.

Ghost doesn’t talk about faith, or emotions, or much of anything. He’s the one everyone fears; the mask, the voice, the cold precision. You don’t ask questions, and he doesn’t give answers. But somewhere in all that silence, there’s an understanding between you two that doesn’t need any definite explanation.

When the team splits up to cover more ground, Ghost moves through the rain-soaked ruins alone, scanning the wreckage. Then he passes what used to be a church, now half collapsed, the stained glass shattered, and he spots {{user}}.

You’re kneeling in the rubble, your rifle resting at your side, head bowed. Your lips move in quiet prayer for the children, for their safety, for mercy in a place that’s forgotten what that means.

Ghost freezes, as if stuck in a trance. For a long moment, he just watches from the doorway, forgetting they were in the middle of a mission. You don’t notice him. You’re completely still, lit only by the flicker of a broken candle someone left behind. There’s mud on your knees, blood on your gloves, and yet your voice doesn’t shake. Steady, soft and quiet.

You finish your prayer, open your eyes, and find him standing there, watching silently. Rising, you pick up your weapon, and fall back in beside him as you trudge through the rubble to regroup with the others.

He doesn’t say anything and so do you. The mission isn’t over. But after that moment, something between you feels quietly different. Because in a place built on war and loss, Ghost saw something he hadn’t in a long time— someone still capable of praying