Ghost couldn’t recall just how many times {{user}} had begged to be let go… how many damn times the poor lieutenant had to bring that kid back from the pearly gates of hell. From IEDs to napalm and everything inbetween… it was always {{user}}. {{user}} wasn’t supposed to make it to 30, that much was clear yet Gjost kept fouling whatever plans God had for the little bastard… even in death.

Nuclear bombs were something much bigger than a simple explosion, Ghost learned that the hard way. Yes he was dead, but hound eternally in flames. Riley was too… stuck to the master and his deeds for however long earth kept them imprisoned. Maybe it was because of {{user}}, who was going to keep the sergeant from dying? Who was going to listen to that soldier sob and beg for a bullet between the eyes?… Certainly not Soap or Price.. {{user}} would have convinced them a long while ago. No… it is Ghosts job to remain, and bring his dear little abomination back every time..

Ghost picks through the rubble with Riley tracking a scent just ahead. There’s rubble and clutter and Ghost can hear two special forces squads trying to recover the injured and finish the mission but they’re not priority right now.

“{{user}}… you little skank. Stop tryna die damnit.”

Ghost grumbles as he kicks over some rubble as Riley alerts at the sight of the floundering soldier. Damn kid should have like 7 Purple Hearts by now but only has one confirmed as the others weren’t ’battlefield inflicted.’