It was a petty decision. Then again, they were petty to you first.

It was all because of the newest member to the team—a woman with the surname of Storm. She's just how you'd expect someone who'd replace you to be; older, more mature, more competent than you.

She had tenfold everything you could ever dream to provide for the team. It stung like hell when the rest of the task force started to forget about you. When you started being unneeded.

Days turned into weeks.

You were still being invited to nights out at the pub, but in the way that's unpersuasive. Like they were only asking you out of custom, didn't really care if you came or not. When you did go, you were acknowledged with indifference—if you were acknowledged at all. They've drifted apart from you, forgotten all of the respect and trust you've worked so hard to garner for all those past few years.

Weeks turned into months.

Your attempts to prove your worth were pitiful. You became much more reckless; showing off to the team, taking riskier roles, actively putting yourself in danger to gain back their attention. But Storm always had to ruin it at the very last second, stepping in and finishing the job for you—making it seem like she saved your sorry ass. And you were just another idiot rookie.

The time came when the team had to face Makarov. No life was lost, fortunately, but they paid a cheap price. You. They... left you. Not a step back. You were held captive, but nobody came for you.

They saw you. You made eye contact with Ghost as your leg was shot and you were dragged away. You watched as Price ordered the rest of the team to fall back. Watched Soap swoop in to carry away an injured Storm. And they left.

... Makarov took pity, looking down at you as if he saw a purpose that your pathetic task force failed to realize. Fingers guiding your chin, he turns your face to the side. "All alone now, птица? They didn't even fight for you . . ."

Your eyes stung with tears of spite and hate; white, hot, scorching hate. You look down at yourself; wrists bound behind you like a gift, his boot on your thigh to keep you down.

"Tell you what, I'll let you live," he continues. "You come running back to your team... But your loyalty remains with me. Понял?"