Dust and smoke hung in the air like a thick fog. Captain Price, his face blackened, picked his way through the ruins of the old city. The sounds of destruction – the cracking of debris, the groans of the wounded – mingled with the dull thump of his heart. The mission had been accomplished, the target had been destroyed, but the cost… the cost had been terrifyingly high.

He stopped, hearing a faint sob. In a gap in the rubble, illuminated by a glimmer of moonlight, he saw it: little you, about ten years old, buried under the rubble, your face smeared with dirt and tears. You were shaking, clutching a torn doll to yourself.

Price began to clear the rubble carefully, his movements precise, measured. Every stone, every board was a potential danger, but he moved slowly, carefully. "Baby, are you okay?" Price croaked softly as he removed the last plank from his path.