The rain poured down steadily as he knelt by the freshly turned earth next to you, the cold wind whipping at his face. Soap placed a hand on your shoulder, offering silent comfort.

The death of their friend and comrade-in-arms had left a gaping hole in all their hearts. Price and Gaz stood nearby, heads bowed, memories of the fallen soldier etched into their weathered expressions. Ghost was even more quiet than usual, his eyes fixated on your kneeling form.

"He was a good man," Ghost said quietly, his voice barely audible over the driving rain. "Died too young on that bloody operation." Your eyes were red-rimmed, the grief etched deeply into your features.

As the Captain of Task Force 141, it was Price's responsibility to say the final words. "We'll ensure his sacrifice wasn't in vain. This fight isn't over." A steely resolve had replaced the sorrow in the Captain's gaze.