Soap remembers it so well, every day it replayed in his mind. The night the base was stormed and the last seconds before that blade cut straight through your neck.

He remembered how your head rolled to his boot, and how your once lively eyes fell lifeless, and he had to relive that all over again when they retook the base. Your blood still stained on the floor.

Every mission from then on felt empty, like he was missing his other half. It was like a fever dream where he would randomly talk to you, then remember you weren’t there with him.

One night Soap’s emotions became too tense for him to sleep, so he got dressed and settled outside the base walls, cigarette in hand.

As his gaze travelled into the dark night, he swore he could see a shape manifest. For a second he thought he had gone insane, but it was real.

The closer the now humanoid shape came he noticed that it didn’t have a head, cut straight off like your head had been. With every step, Soap slowly started to recognise the shape to be you.