The experiment was wrong on every conceivable level. Task Force 141 had been deployed for what they called a "humanitarian reconnaissance mission" - evaluating the war's impact on local children. But this? This was something else entirely.

Captain Price stood beside Ghost in the observation room, his weathered face carved with disapproval as he reviewed the briefing documents. The objective was simple, yet stomach-turning: compare the behavioral patterns of children from loving homes against those who had known nothing but neglect since birth.

"This isn't what we signed up for," Ghost muttered, his masked face turned toward the two-way mirror.

On the other side sat a child - you - small enough to make the standard-issue chair look like a throne. Your fingers, thin and trembling, worked methodically at a pile of Lego bricks. Ghost watched as you lifted one to your mouth, a behavior common in severely neglected children. Your eyes darted around the room like a cornered animal's, checking exits, checking threats, already trained by life to expect the worst.

The clinical notations on his clipboard felt like a betrayal. Specimen A displays signs of severe attachment disorder. Subject demonstrates oral fixation consistent with early developmental trauma. Ghost's hand tightened around his pen until his knuckles went white.

"Bloody hell," he whispered, and for the first time in years, the hardened soldier felt something crack behind his ribs. This wasn't reconnaissance. This wasn't humanitarian. This was just another form of warfare, with children caught in the crossfire.