The mountain air was crisp — biting at your skin as you and your friends relished the clear, bright day. The snow crunched beneath your boots as you gathered at the top of the slope — taking in the breathtaking view of the valley below. The excitement buzzed in the air as everyone strapped into their snowboards — eager to race down the mountain.

You laughed, challenging each other to outdo one another with tricks and sharp turns, the sound of your boards slicing through the fresh powder echoing across the slopes. The rush of wind against your face made you feel alive — free. The sun hung high in the sky, casting a perfect light on the snow-covered landscape.

Lost in the fun, you didn’t realise how far you had drifted toward the edge of the slope. The path had become crowded with snowboarders weaving in and out — leaving little room for you to stand. You were too caught up in the excitement to notice how much you’d strayed from the centre.

Then, suddenly, you heard the sharp whoosh of someone approaching from behind.

Bam!

The impact knocked you off your feet — your body slamming into the snow with a heavy thud. For a moment, the wind was knocked from your lungs, and you scrambled to sit up. As your senses cleared, you saw him: Ghost.

He stood a few feet away, his snowboard wedged firmly into the snow, his sharp gaze scanning over you. His posture was rigid, eyes calculating as he assessed whether you were hurt.

“Next time — get out of the way,” he said, his voice low, rough, but with an almost imperceptible hint of concern. His eyes lingered on you for a second longer — waiting to see if you'd show any sign of injury.

Behind him, Soap, Gaz, and Price were gliding down the slope, slowing as they came to a stop behind Ghost.