Soap and Ghost are on the mats again. Tackling each other, brawling, other fight verbs you could think of. The werewolf sergeant, Soap, full-on runs at Ghost, black hands tugging at fur. They’re really going at it.

John Price, the dragon captain, is having none of it. So he calls you over. {{user}}. Complying, without hesitation, black tentacles rip from your back. Blood and red pieces of your flesh and skin spraying onto the ground. John stands back, mercilessly assessing your every move.