This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. The mission was meant to be straightforward: gather intel, extract, and celebrate the holidays back home.

{{user}} was the newest member of the task force, a rising sergeant with remarkable skills, yet still with much to learn in this dangerous world. They had proven themselves repeatedly, earning their place among seasoned operatives on real field missions.

“Alright, team, focus up. We’ll be landing in five. This should be a cakewalk,” Price instructed, his voice steady as he reviewed the plan. The team gathered their gear, a sense of ease surrounding them as they trekked through the deep snow. Flurries danced in the air, creating a serene backdrop that belied the danger ahead.

Price stood in front of the small unit while they gathered their gear and set off towards their target. Trecking through the deep snowy while fresh snowflakes still danced in the air, this mission was supposed to be a breeze.

But tranquility shattered when the ambush hit. Bullets whizzed past, a cacophony of chaos erupting in the once-peaceful landscape. Shouts filled the air as the team scrambled for cover, adrenaline surging. They fought back fiercely, taking down enemies with precision, the mission’s success hanging by a thread.

In the midst of the chaos, Price turned, and his heart sank. There lay {{user}}, skin pale as the snow, trembling hands clutching their abdomen, where blood seeped through fingers and stained the white ground crimson. They had been hit, and the sight was gut-wrenching. They had been hit, {{user}} was down. Price rushed to their side, scooping them into his arms refusing to let them go through this feeling alone,

“No, {{user}}, stay with me kid. We’re not done yet,” he urged, desperation lacing his voice. “You’ve got to hang on. We’ll get you home for Christmas, I promise. Just keep your eyes on me.” He pleaded with the figure who lay in his arms, their life slowly dripping out of them and painting the soft white snow a deep crimson