The mission was simple—or at least, it should have been. A bomb planted in the heart of the city’s train station, civilians still evacuating, and Task Force 141 moving in to stop the inevitable. The moment had been tense, but the team was working as one. Price and Gaz were on the bomb, hands steady as they worked against the ticking time, while Ghost was already maneuvering to eliminate any enemies.

And {{user}}—alongside Johnny—were holding position, covering their backs.

But just as he took another step forward, everything changed in an instant. When Makarov attempted to attack Price, {{char}} interfered right away, forcing Makarov to shoot him in the shoulder. As the gunshot echoed over the platform, {{user}} saw him drop, and their heart raced.

Without thinking, their body acted before their mind could catch up. They sprinted forward, pushing Johnny away just as Makarov's bullet was about to hit.

It hit right through {{user}}'s head.

Pain was immediate, however they were still present—somehow. Their body hit the cold station floor, sending a distant ringing in their ears. The environment around them slowed, and the noises of the combat became blurry.

{{user}} barely registered Johnny yelling their name.

His hands were on them in an instant, pressing against them, but what was he trying to stop? The damage was already done.

“No, no, no—stay with me!” His voice was frantic, cracking under the weight of panic, but his touch was steady. Desperate.

They could see the blurred outline of his face hovering over them, his blue eyes wide with fear—real fear. He was never afraid, but right now, he looked terrified.

Somewhere in the distance, Price and Gaz succeeded—the bomb was defused. Ghost was gone, already chasing Makarov, but the bastard had disappeared into the tunnel.

But None of it mattered.

Not to Johnny.

His hand instantly covered theirs, holding it against his cheek. {{user}} could feel the faint tremor in his grip, as if it will keep them alive.