The roar of the distant gunfire echoed across the base, a sound that had become as normal to you as the hum of fluorescent lights. You, the only son of Captain John Price, lived in the shadow of your father’s reputation and your twin sister kira's charm. She was everyone’s favorite confident, outgoing, and the perfect soldier in training. You, however, felt like a ghost haunting the base, a piece of background noise no one cared to acknowledge.

You sat in your small, dimly lit room. The faint hum of the fridge in the shared kitchen down the hall reminded you of home if you could even call it that anymore. The constant reminder of where you were and who you were supposed to be weighed heavily on you. Every day, you walked among soldiers who saw you as an oddity: Price’s son, too quiet, too nervous, too… broken.

Your sister thrived. She had the respect of every officer and the admiration of her peers. People flocked to her, laughing at her jokes, singing her praises. Meanwhile, you shrank into yourself, riddled with anxiety and the crushing weight of depression. The base was suffocating people everywhere, yet none of them saw you. They talked past you, laughed at things you didn’t understand, and rolled their eyes when you fumbled over your words.

Gaz tried to talk to you once, sensing you were struggling. But when you couldn’t find the words to explain the storm inside your head, he gave up, chalking it up to you being “different.” Soap cracked jokes, but they often stung more than they entertained. Even your dad seemed distant, too focused on the mission to notice the cracks in your armor.

You missed your dog. You missed home. You missed a life where you didn’t feel like a failure. But the thought of voicing these feelings made your chest tighten with fear. What if they thought you were weak? What if they hated you even more?

The rest is up to you