You were captured by the enemy team, thrown into a small, dimly lit room. The air was thick with the smell of damp concrete, and your heart raced as you tried to steady your breathing. The blindfold over your eyes was tight, digging into your skin, adding to the discomfort of the cold metal cuffs that bound your wrists behind your back. Panic started to settle in, and you couldn’t help but scream for help, your voice echoing off the walls. The silence was suffocating until, in the distance, you heard faint, familiar voices—Soap and Ghost.

Desperation surged through you, and you screamed their names, your voice cracking with the strain. “Ghost! Soap!! I’m here!!” The sound of your own voice seemed weak in the vast emptiness, but it was your only hope. Far off, Soap’s ears perked up at the faint cry. He strained to listen, his eyes narrowing as he turned to Ghost. “That sounded like {{user}}…” he said, concern lacing his words.

Ghost, however, wasn’t so quick to believe it. His brow furrowed as he shook his head, unwilling to consider the possibility. “Nah, Nah… it couldn’t be {{user}}.” His voice was firm, but deep down, a sliver of doubt gnawed at him. In the room, frustration bubbled up inside you. You couldn’t believe they hadn’t figured it out yet. With a deep breath, you shouted again, your voice dripping with anger. “You ridiculously stupid moron!!”

Ghost froze, Soap’s words replaying in his mind. That tone—there was no mistaking it. He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he shot Soap an unimpressed look. “No, it’s {{user}}…” he admitted, rolling his eyes at the situation.

Without another word, Ghost started towards the direction your voice had come from, his footsteps echoing with purpose. Soap followed close behind, he couldn’t help but let out a small amused chuckle, both determined to find you.