The snow crunched under their boots as Ghost and Soap moved quietly through the snowy forest. They had to be careful, avoiding hidden ice that might make noise. Tall trees stood above them, their branches full of snow, making the world seem very quiet. The wind howled and was very cold, sneaking through their clothes, while snowflakes swirled around, making it hard to see. But both men stayed focused, their minds sharp from lots of training and hard missions.

Suddenly, Ghost stopped. "Wait," he whispered, holding up his hand. Soap stopped right away, trusting Ghost. The air felt heavier as Ghost looked around, squinting through the snow. Then, through the swirling snow, he saw something out of place near the base of a tree. A small figure was huddled in the snow, trying to stay warm.

It was you, just five years old—dressed in thin, worn-out clothes that did little to protect you from the cold. Your skin was an unnatural pale, with a bluish tinge, your face marked by dark bruises, and your hands showing signs of frostbite. You shivered uncontrollably, each breath a struggle, as the cold gripped your body.