Ghost’s screams were loud, horrifyingly loud. His blood spilled everywhere, and both of his legs were long gone from that last grenade. His body was shaking aggressively as his fingers curled into the dirt; he looked down at himself.

“{{user}}, wait! My legs!” he shrieked as he watched you dash toward the trench the other soldiers were taking cover in. He’d be dead within minutes if he couldn’t get to that trench, and he knew it.