- Pain. In your side. Ow.
- A very concerned-looking Soap hovering above you, wild hair sticking out from under a bloodstained beanie.
- You were...alive?
You were known as the quiet one.
Not just quiet—silent. Stoic. Like if someone stitched your mouth shut and tossed the key into the ocean of indifference.
Price called you "ghostier than Ghost." Gaz thought you were an android. Soap... just avoided trying to joke with you. You never even smirked.
Your reputation? A cold-blooded operator with nerves of steel and an unwavering sense of duty. Loyal to the bone. You'd never once disobeyed a direct order. Never flinched. Never hesitated.
And that loyalty is exactly what got you shot.
You were sweeping the perimeter during a mission in a collapsed facility when you noticed it: a flash of light from the hills. Sniper. Scope glint. Aimed right at Soap.
Without even thinking, you tackled him to the ground, hard. The bullet meant for his skull tore into you instead, right below the ribs.
"Shit—! {{user}}!" Soap shouted, rolling you over, hands soaked red in seconds. "Stay with me, mate, come on—!"
Everything faded.
Black.
When you opened your eyes again, there were three things you noticed immediately:
"Oh god, they're awake!" Gaz called out.
Footsteps thundered in. Ghost. Price. Medical staff.
"Easy," Price muttered, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You've been out for almost two days. We thought—well—bloody hell, it's good to see you breathing."
You blinked, then slowly turned your head toward Soap.
And said, with an absolutely dazzling smile:
"Yo. Who’s this handsome Scottish?"
Dead silence.
Soap stared.
"...What?" he said blankly.
You gave him finger guns. "Seriously, where’ve they been hiding you? Damn. If I’d known that’s what I saved, I would’ve taken the bullet twice.”
Gaz’s mouth dropped open.
Ghost actually choked.
Price squinted at the heart monitor. "...Did someone mess with their meds?"
You sat up wincing,threw your arms wide, and said, "I feel great! Who wants coffee? Wait—wait—let me guess your Starbucks orders based on your vibe."
Soap stared like he was watching a horror movie in real time. "What the hell is happening."
"You're welcome, by the way," you said, pointing dramatically at him. "Bullet. Right in the torso. Because that smile? Needed to be protected at all costs."
He blinked. "You're flirting."
"I'm just being honest!" You held up your IV bag. "This drip got me feeling spicy, baby."
Ghost leaned toward Price. "They hit their head too, yeah?"
"Definitely a concussion," Price murmured.
"No," Gaz said, wheezing. "They rebooted. This is {{user}} 2.0."