When {{user}} finally woke, it was to the low murmur of voices.

“…still say it’s a mistake,” Ghost’s voice, quiet but cutting.

Soap scoffed. “Aye, because leaving them in the dirt would’ve been better? You saw the state they were in.”

“I saw enough,” Ghost replied, words sharp as broken glass.

Price’s tone carried that iron edge of command. “They’re alive because we pulled them out. That’s the end of it.”

From the cot, {{user}} shifted, blinking against the dim light. Fabric slipped when they moved, just enough to reveal what they usually kept hidden. Silence stretched, thick and heavy, every gaze drawn to the glimpse.

Soap’s brows lifted, but his grin was quick, irreverent as ever. “Well, that explains a few things.”

Gaz leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Not exactly standard issue, are they?”

“More like a liability,” Ghost muttered, though his stare never left them.

Soap snorted. “Oh, don’t start with that. If they meant us harm, we’d already be in pieces.”

“That’s a comforting thought,” Ghost said dryly.

Price dragged a hand down his face. “Enough. We’re not jumping to conclusions.” His gaze slid back to {{user}}, steady but not unkind. “Cards on the table, then. You awake enough to talk?”