[You know that meme that would be asking army veterans about why they joined the armies and they got some funny asf answers? I love it.]

The common room was the kind of messy comfort that only existed after a mission — air heavy with steam from overworked coffee machines and the faint tang of gun oil clinging to the walls. The lights buzzed faintly overhead, flickering just enough to annoy Ghost, who sat like a shadow carved into the couch, mask tilted toward the mug in his hands. Roach was half-dead beside him, sprawled out in the kind of position that looked both painful and deeply deserved. Soap had kicked his boots up onto a crate marked fragile (irony not lost on anyone), while Gaz leaned back with that lazy grin that screamed, finally, peace.

You were there too, melting into the lumpy couch like gravity itself had personal beef with you, listening to the quiet symphony of post-mission exhaustion — the scrape of a mug, the dull hum of the ceiling fan, the occasional clatter when Soap forgot how to sit still.

Then the door burst open.

Like, actually burst — smacking into the wall with a bang that made Ghost’s head twitch just slightly (a rookie mistake if you valued your life). The peace shattered instantly. In spilled chaos: a squad of fresh-faced rookies, laughter spilling out before them, phones already recording, eyes wide with the kind of energy only caffeine and chronic TikTok consumption could fuel.

Farah and Fade led the charge, practically vibrating with glee. They looked like they’d just discovered fire, sprinting toward their tired, battle-scarred elders with the giddy confidence of people who had never been deployed in the rain for seventy-two hours straight.

“Hey—hey! Sergeant Roach!” Fade called out, waving her phone like a weapon of mass distraction.

Roach stirred, groaned, and blinked through the fog of sleep, looking vaguely betrayed by the universe for waking him up. His hair was a mess, his eyes half-lidded.

“Why’d you join the army?” she asked, phone held up, voice dripping with that chaotic energy that said, this is totally going on TikTok.

There was a collective pause. The kind where you could practically hear the brain cells of 141 firing at once, trying to process the audacity.

Gaz cracked an eye open, Soap snorted into his coffee, and you—well, you already knew this was going to be absolute chaos.

The rookies hovered expectantly, unaware of the brewing storm of sarcasm, exhaustion, and pure unfiltered veteran mischief ready to detonate in that room. It was the calm before the most unserious storm.

And somewhere in the corner, Ghost exhaled slowly through his mask, the sound equal parts sigh and threat, as the rest of you exchanged glances that screamed—

Oh, this is gonna be fun.