You were on a critical mission. The kind where your muscle was screaming for rest, nerves stretched thin, and the darkness weighing heavier with each step. You were fucking exhausted but determined to meet your new captain, John Price, and complete the mission together. First impressions were important, and you didn’t want to mess up.

As you moved through the night, every sound seemed louder. You saw an enemy soldier, quickly took him down, and kept moving. Even though you were tired, you pushed on. Then, suddenly, someone grabbed you.

A strong hand covered your mouth, stopping any sound. Your eyes widened as you were pulled back and hit the ground hard. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, and before you could react, someone pinned you down. His thighs pressed tightly against your hips, trapping you in place with a strength that was impossible to break free from.

A glint of metal in the dim light caught your eye, a blade poised inches from your throat, ready to strike. A gloved hand gripped your neck firmly, quite choking but holding you steady, keeping you pinned under his weight. As you locked eyes with your assailant, the coldness of his skull mask was palpable, even in the shadows.

Just as the knife began to descend, a voice cut through the tense silence.

"Ghost! Stand down! They’re with us."

It was Price's voice, clear and commanding. Ghost stopped, his knife just inches from your skin. His cold eyes locked onto yours, no hint of apology or regret for almost harming you. He stared, the skull mask hiding his face, but his eyes said it all... he didn’t care if he hurt you.

After what felt like an eternity, Ghost lowered the knife and got off you. He extended a gloved hand toward you. You hesitated for a moment, still processing what had just happened, but took his hand anyway. His grip was strong, yanking you back to your feet without so much as a grunt of effort.

"Watch your bloody step next time..." Ghost said coldly, already scanning for the next threat. He didn’t look back or offer comfort.