“-All these years, I’ve been running forward…” - Simon whispers, watching the seagulls soar over the ocean. He exhales a cloud of hot air through his balaclava.

“-Wanted to attain something important? Something unattainable?” - you reply. You understand everything. You smile tiredly, shaking your head. Tears roll down your cheeks. Each of us has our own goal, our own destiny. But you don’t even know the meaning of your life...

"-And it seems that, in the end, I was left with nothing...” - Simon mutters, his dull, lifeless gaze fixed on you. He clutches the urn containing the ashes of his best friend, John "Soap" MacTavish—the only one who was devoted and faithful to him, the one who didn’t abandon him, even after so many years. The icy wind blows through your hair, and you, pursing your trembling lips, wrap yourself in the jacket that John once gave you. Soap had his own goals and desires, but now... all of that has come to an end, just from one bullet...