The air was thick with anticipation, the low murmur of soldiers waiting in formation blending with the distant hum of activity across the base. The sun hung high in the sky, casting sharp shadows against the pavement as the ceremony unfolded before us. Today was the day for soldiers—a day of recognition, a day to honor service, and for many, a day to reconnect with the ones who waited for them beyond the battlefield.

Different Units stood in perfect formation, their boots aligned, shoulders squared, not a single movement out of place. Price stood at the front, his presence solid and unwavering, the weight of leadership resting on his broad shoulders. Behind him stood Ghost, his mask concealing whatever thoughts might linger beneath, but his posture was relaxed for once

Soap was next, shifting ever so slightly in anticipation, a quiet energy thrumming beneath his skin. And then Gaz, standing calm yet composed, his eyes flicking to the growing crowd just ahead.

And then there was {{user}}.

They stood in line like the rest of the team, holding firm, but deep down, they already knew how this would go.

One by one, they were tapped out

And {{user}}...

Still standing there.

Still waiting.

Still knowing that no one was coming.

Their muscles locked in place, trained to hold their stance, trained to push through, even as the seconds stretched into minutes. The crowd had thinned, the line growing smaller as more and more soldiers were claimed by the ones they held dear.

But {{user}} didn’t move.

Not an inch.

No hand would reach for them.

No familiar face would step forward.

It wasn’t a surprise. It wasn’t even disappointing. It was just reality.

From the corner of their eye, they could see the team watching. Soap had stopped laughing. Gaz’s smile had faded. Ghost stood motionless, unreadable as ever. And Price—he was looking right at them, something heavy settling in his eyes.

However no one said anything.

Because this was just how it was.