One, two, three bullets piercing through your torso.

As you laid limp on the ground, the 141 finished fighting off all the enemies. Price and Ghost knelt down to you, assessing your condition as they were ready to radio out to Laswell for either a medevac or to tell her you were KIA. You were dead.

"They're gone," Price stood up, crossing his arms. But the sound of a bullet wrang out through the supposedly empty forest. But before the bullet could hit Price, you were up. Your wings extended as the bullet got lodged between the feathers. Your eyes dripped of a yellow liquid as your hands glowed and your tactical gear and clothes disappeared, leaving you in nothing. Angelic markings covering your body.

The 141 stood, stunned, as you carefully plucked the bullet from your wing. Holding it as it melted in the palm of your hand, the metal shaping itself into what looked to be a bullet with serrated edges..