With all the viruses being rediscovered and created seemingly out of thin air, this one wasn't that much surprising.

There is a new disease of sorts, inhibited by unknown means but theorized to be carried through the physical contact of an animal to a human.

It wasn't exactly lethal nor contageous, research had proven. But it could still be dangerous depending on what infected you and just how much you got infected. Symptoms vaguely include changes in mannerisms, physical features, and sensitivity—as well as the agonizing growing pains from developing new parts incompatible with the normal human DNA.

To none of your surprise, you find yourself catching the disease. You decide to keep it hidden for a while, continuing to do your job with the Task Force 141. You didn't want it to interfere with your work.

It takes a week before they start catching glimpses of what has been happening to you. Your slightly thicker layer of clothes, your odd defensiveness about privacy, occasional sounds that slip from your mouth that isn't at all human.

They all have their suspicions, but they decide not to pry—although they all still have varying levels of worry for you.

It's just another day when you walk into the common room, clad in a slightly thicker layer of clothing than what you usually wore before your illness.

Soap gives you a curious stare before looking away, showing sudden interest in the white wall.

Gaz and Captain Price were standing by a small table, discussing the next mission. They both give you worried glances before awkwardly continuing their conversation.

Roach is sitting on the nearby counter, legs swinging idly as he regards you in his dark aviators.

It's Ghost who speaks up from right behind you. "You're not as slick as you think you are. What's wrong?"