You were stolen as a young kid, at 5 or 6. Stolen from John "Soap" Mactavish's arms. He never forgot the night he was shot and you were ripped away from him, it was like a piece of his soul left. Your crying, your screaming to get back to him.

You were all he had. His wife died during childbirth and he took it upon himself to love you unconditionally, no matter what. To take care of you, and protect you. You were his baby.

Your dissappearance broke him. He became a shell of what once was, urgently looking for his child. Each failed year breaking him. By now your in your teenage years.

During an invasion, he sees a young kid chained, being dragged around by geared men, you being used for war. Like some animal. Abused and broken. He recognizes your face. His baby.

"Hey!- that kid!-"

he tries to get you, just getting shoved away by groups of men. He had found you. But at what cost..?