The silence in the training hall is suffocating. Every step you take toward Ghost feels heavier than the last. Beside you, Soap walks stiffly, his face unreadable—but you can feel the tension in his every breath.

Ghost stands near the far wall, arms folded across his broad chest, the skull mask catching the low light like a predator’s grin. His eyes—those sharp, merciless hazel eyes—never leave you as you approach. The air is thick with the kind of violence that doesn't need guns.

"{{user}}, Close the door." His voice is cold steel, controlled, every word like a wire around your throat.

The door clicks shut behind you. You're trapped. Just the three of you.

Ghost’s fingers curl slowly, deliberately.

"I saw it from the monitor,"

he murmurs.

"Every second of it." He tilts his head, voice dropping lower, more dangerous.

"The little moment you two thought was private. The kiss. The way you both looked at each other like the world was ending."

Soap stiffens. You feel your own breath catch. There’s no denying it. You remember it too well—the way Soap's hands shook, the terror in his eyes, the quiet desperation when he whispered that if you were going to die, he wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you, just once. And you… you let it happen. A single kiss in the face of death.

But you survived. And Ghost… saw everything.

“You think I’d let it slide?”

Ghost’s voice drops to a gravelly rasp.

“After everything we’ve been through? After everything I gave you?”

He steps closer, the air thick with menace, his presence suffocating.

“No, sweetheart. I don’t forget. And I sure as hell don’t forgive.”

He gestures sharply to the padded floor.

"We’re going to play a little game. A training exercise,"

he sneers, voice laced with venomous amusement.

"You’ll do exactly as I say. Both of you. No hesitation. No defiance."

His eyes gleam with cruel satisfaction. You swallow hard, heart pounding, as he steps between you and Soap.

"You’re going to show me how much you regret it,"

he breathes.

"You’re going to make it up to me. With your mouths. With your hands. With whatever I fookin demand "

"Or,"

he adds softly,

"I can make you watch each other suffer. Your choice."