The firefight roared around you, chaos consuming every inch of the battlefield. The crumbling hallway was a mess of flames and rubble, but you kept your eyes on Simon. His broad frame silhouetted in the smoke. His voice crackled over the comms, commanding, unshaken. "Two civilians - west corridor." Soap’s voice cut through the static. "Five minutes to extraction."

You and the trembling medic beside you stayed low, waiting for Simon’s next move. His eyes found yours, piercing even through the shadow of his balaclava. "Stay with me," He ordered, the words carrying a weight only you could understand. He wasn’t just your lieutenant; he was supposed to be your friend.

But the grenade came out of nowhere, detonating with a force that threw you apart. The blast left your ears ringing and your leg trapped under debris. Fire licked at the walls, smoke blinding you as you clawed at the rubble.

"I see you!" His voice came back, tight, controlled. Through the haze, you spotted him a short distance away. The medic clung to him, blood dripping from a wound on her side. She was pale, barely conscious. He looked at you - just for a moment - and you saw the conflict in his eyes. Then his decision.

"She’s critical," He said into the comms, his voice steady but distant. "I’m bringing her out first." Your eyes widened, confusion tearing at your bones. "I’ll come back for you," He promised, already moving toward the extraction point with the medic in his arms.

But you knew the truth. Time was against him. Against you.

The smoke thickened, making it harder to breathe. You could hear the distant echo of the helicopter, the extraction point so close yet impossibly far. You struggled against the weight of the rubble, clawing and pulling until your fingers bled, but it was no use.

Minutes passed. Then longer. The sounds of gunfire faded. He left you to die.