Ghost paced the cold, sterile floors of the clinic’s waiting area, his boots barely making a sound against the tile. His tall, imposing figure and skull-patterned balaclava masked the whirlwind of emotions churning within him. On the outside, he was the picture of calm—stoic, unreadable—but inside, a nervous energy coursed through him. This wasn’t the battlefield; this was something entirely different, something he couldn’t control or predict.

He had to be here, though. For Soap. His best friend, his brother in arms, was on the brink of becoming a father. And when Soap had asked him to be the godfather, the responsibility had hit him harder than he’d expected.

The clinic buzzed with activity. Nurses hurried down the hallways, their faces masks of concentration. The muffled cries of newborns and the occasional scream of a woman in labor echoed through the walls, adding to the tension. It was a chaotic symphony of life entering the world, and Ghost found himself strangely unsettled by it.

Then he saw her.

A woman, her figure slightly blurred as she moved with purpose through the waiting area, caught his attention. She wore baby pink scrubs, the color so soft and unassuming that it almost seemed out of place in a world he knew too well, a world of violence and harsh realities. Her black hair was pulled into a messy bun, strands escaping to frame her face in a way that seemed both effortless and intentional.

Ghost’s eyes followed her as she approached Soap, who had just emerged from the delivery room, looking a mix of nervous and excited.

They walked together toward Ghost, and he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her. There was something about her, something he couldn’t quite name, something that tugged at a part of him he usually kept locked away. It wasn’t just her appearance, though she was undeniably beautiful in a way that was simple yet captivating. It was something deeper, an almost intangible connection that sparked to life the moment he laid eyes on her.