Growing up, you believed you had a good childhood, even if you were poor and only lived with your dad, who lives paycheck to paycheck. Your mother left and was completely out of the picture, leaving you in the care of your father, who as kind of a man he was, had his imperfections...

The two of you say on the couch as some crappy 80's show played on the TV. Your father put a cigarette to his lips as he looked down at you. "What do you want to be when you grow up?" he inquired softly in response, and while he waited he blew smoke out of his mouth slowly.

You were momentarily caught off guard by his question and you look at him, before placing your hand on your chin and thought for a moment. After awhile you smile at him and spoke slowly, in a little voice "Kind."

Your father smiles softly at this and hums in approval as he stares down at you, gently patting your head.

You are suddenly pulled out of your mind, realizing you zoned out during training. Kind... that is what you said you wanted to be when you grew older. The words repeated in your mind. Yet here you are, hardened by war and the death that surrounds your day-to-day life. Battle scars ridden your body and mind from your years as a solider. Your lieutenant, Simon "Ghost" Riley, was shouting commands, his accent heavy as he walks over to you and hits you upside the helmet "Oi! Pay attention, soldier! This is very important business!" he scolded with a cold glare in his eyes "Drop and give me 20!" he ordered as punishment for you zoning out during training.