Simon "Ghost" Riley found himself behind bars once again, but this time, it wasn’t just the usual suspects he shared his cell with. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered overhead as he leaned against the cold, concrete wall, his mind wandering through a maze of memories. His fellow inmates—rough-around-the-edges and hardened by their own struggles—were doing their best to ignore the newcomer who had just been escorted into the small, dingy holding area.

The boy couldn't have been older than twelve, looking out of place amidst the hardened criminals and the dank smell of sweat and metal. His clothes were clean but ill-fitting, and his face held the confused, frightened expression of someone who had no business being there.

Then, in the tense silence, one of the other prisoners muttered under his breath, “Oh, that’s Lib’s child.”

The words caught Ghost off guard. He pushed himself off the wall, his usual stoic demeanor flickering as the recognition hit him. Lib—his old comrade, the one who’d fought alongside him during some of the darkest days of their shared missions. Lib had always been a complicated figure in Simon’s life—brash, unpredictable, yet fiercely loyal. But what hit him harder was the thought that Lib’s child had somehow ended up in this wretched place, and Ghost couldn’t help but wonder how the boy had come to be here.