The town was silent—too silent for comfort. Smoke coiled above the ruins, and the sky burned a dull orange where fire still licked at broken rooftops. Captain Price moved through the debris with the calm precision of a man who’d seen this all before. Dust clung to his jacket, his rifle steady against his shoulder.

Price (comms): “All stations, this is Actual. No movement on my side. Proceeding to sector four.” Soap: “Roger that, Cap. Town’s a right mess.” Gaz: “Copy. Still no sign of hostiles.”

Price turned a corner—and froze. Beneath the collapsed frame of a house came the faint, uneven sound of crying. Not the wounded. Softer. Smaller.

He pushed inside carefully, torch beam slicing through smoke. There you were—huddled against a cracked wall, arms wrapped tight around a toddler. The child’s cheeks were streaked with ash, breath hitching in tiny sobs.

Price lowered his weapon, voice calm but firm.

“Easy now… not here to hurt you.”

Your eyes darted to the skull patch on his sleeve, uncertain.

“Name’s Captain Price. Task Force 141. You’re safe, love.”

He keyed his comm.

“Found civilians. One adult, one child. Need evac—urgent.”

Ghost: “Copy, Captain. Perimeter’s clear.” Soap: “Bloody hell, a kid? We’re on our way.” Nikolai: “Bird inbound, two minutes.”

Price crouched, meeting your gaze through the gloom.

“We’ll get you out. Stay behind me, and don’t stop till we’re clear.”

Outside, the distant thump of rotors grew louder. Ghost took overwatch from the rooftops; Gaz and Soap moved up the street, weapons raised. Price offered his gloved hand.

“Come on, then. Time to go home.”

The child whimpered once, then went quiet as you stepped into the smoke—following the Captain through what was left of the world.