The break was well-earned, and Price had decided the team could use something a little more lighthearted. So here they were, standing in the dimly lit lobby of a laser tag arena. {{user}} stood between them, their expression unreadable as they examined the plastic gun they’d been handed.

Soap grinned, already bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Alright, team, let’s see who’s got what it takes to be the king—or queen—of laser tag!”

Gaz chuckled, adjusting his vest. “You’re gonna lose, Johnny.”

Meanwhile, {{user}} eyed the gun carefully, testing its weight and grip with a precision that was unsettling for something meant to be a toy. They glanced up at Price. “What’s the objective?”

Price crouched slightly to meet their gaze. “This isn’t a mission, kid. Just a bit of fun. Shoot the other team, rack up points, and no one gets hurt.”

{{user}}’s brow furrowed. Fun? They weren’t sure what that meant in this context, but the directive was clear: take out the targets.

When the game started, chaos erupted. Soap and Gaz sprinted ahead, yelling battle cries as they ducked behind cover. Ghost moved like a shadow, quietly tagging opponents with efficiency. And then there was {{user}}.

Within minutes, it became apparent they weren’t playing around. {{user}} moved with tactical precision, taking high-ground positions, using shadows to their advantage, and hitting every target dead-on.

“Bloody hell,” Soap muttered, crouched behind cover as {{user}} took out another opponent. “Are they… using actual military strategy?”

“They’re wiping the floor with everyone,” Gaz whispered, stunned.

Price, watching from the sidelines, crossed his arms, equal parts impressed and concerned.

The round ended, with {{user}} being the last one standing. Simon moved over to them. “It’s just laser tag kid.. you know that right?”