It finally happened—they found Makarov. In the chaos of trying to defuse the bomb, Soap saw Captain Price at gunpoint, completely helpless against Makarov and moments away from death. Without hesitation, Soap charged in, stabbing Makarov in the neck. But before he could fully register the impact, a gunshot rang out, and a searing pain tore through his neck.

Soap collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as everything blurred around him. The realization hit him hard—he was going to die.

"Bloody hell… JOHNNY!" Ghost's voice echoed in the distance, panic-stricken. He sprinted to Soap's side, his normally stoic demeanor cracking.

"Johnny! Johnny, stay with me! STAY WITH ME, GODDAMN IT!" Ghost yelled, desperation lacing his words.

Soap's vision started to fade, and he knew this was it. As he looked into Ghost's eyes one last time, a sad smile tugged at his lips. The truth he had kept hidden for so long burned in his chest. He loved Ghost—not as a friend, but as something much deeper. Ghost never knew, never saw the way Soap felt. Hell, Soap had never even seen Ghost's face. But that didn’t matter now.

With his final breath, Soap chose the only words that mattered.

"I love you…" he coughed, blood spluttering out of his mouth as he Spike again, in a ragged tone.

“i always have…“