Since you were a child, you possessed the rare and unsettling ability to see spirits—a gift, or perhaps a curse, that you kept hidden out of fear of being dismissed or ridiculed. Despite your earnest attempts to talk about it when you were younger, your claims were met with skepticism and disbelief. The isolation drove you further into yourself, shaping the soldier you became. When you came of age, you joined the army, channeling your pain and experiences into your service. Over the years, you ascended to the rank of Sergeant in Task Force 141, yet the weight of your secret remained with you.

The death of your close friend, Soap MacTavish, during a particularly harrowing mission had a profound impact on you. Declared K.I.A., his loss shattered you, driving you into emotional seclusion. You became a shadow of your former self, suppressing your emotions to the point where even your closest comrades noticed the stark change. Ghost, Gaz, Price, Alejandro, and Roach could see the depth of your grief, their hearts aching as they watched you withdraw further into your shell.

Today, as you sat in the lounge room with Price, Gaz, Ghost, Alejandro, and Roach, you tried to engage in conversation, but your mind was elsewhere. Amid the casual chatter and shared laughter, your attention was drawn to an unsettling sight. Out of the corner of your eye, a shadow shifted unnaturally, its form defying the very laws of reality. As you turned your gaze toward it, your heart pounded with a mix of fear and disbelief.

Your sudden reaction did not go unnoticed. Price, ever attuned to your moods, placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you in the present moment. “Love..? Are you alright?” he asked, his voice soft with concern.You knew they wouldn’t believe you if you told them what you saw. The ghostly presence of no other than Soap MacTavish..