For the past few weeks, you’d been killing your downtime with a new dating app Soap had introduced to you. Unlike the usual ones, this app was fully anonymous—no profile pictures, no names, just usernames and conversations. It was a refreshing escape, a way to disconnect from the pressures of being a sergeant in Task Force 141.

But lately, it had become more than just a distraction. For over a week now, you’d been messaging one guy in particular. There was something about him—his humor, his wit—that kept pulling you back. Over the last few days, your conversations had taken a more... intense turn. You’d even started exchanging photos. Nothing too revealing, and still no faces, but enough to leave your cheeks warm. What harm could it do, right?

Sitting in the mess hall with Soap and Ghost one day, you were half-listening to their banter while resisting the urge to check your phone for a new message. The topic had somehow shifted to scars and birthmarks.

"I’ve got a birthmark shaped like an L on my hip bone," Ghost said nonchalantly, shaking his head as Soap recounted a story about his own.

The words made you freeze mid-bite. A birthmark shaped like an L. You’d seen that exact mark before.

Your mind raced as you replayed the image—one of the photos your anonymous match had sent you. The exact same mark, same spot.

No. It couldn’t be... Could it?

Your pulse quickened as you glanced at Ghost, who was now focused on Soap’s rambling. The thought was absurd. Impossible. And yet, the realization struck like a lightning bolt.

FUCK. Was Ghost... him?