It was a stealth mission. Clear the area, quietly and with precision.

Nothing was supposed be left behind — no witnesses, no weapons. Nothing was supposed to be left behind.

A mission relatively easy, simple. After all, it was not the first time they had gone on such missions, more so with rookies and their Lieutenant who always came to ensure that there would be no casualties or complications.

And yet, Ghost had to go back in. Alone. To retrieve or rid of something the Sergeant foolishly had left behind. That’s all everyone could think about, considering their commander had not given any hints on what exactly was left behind.

And it was only later, the soldiers speculating and whispering when their Lieutenant was seen studying back, towards the Sergeant.

The air felt tense, almost nonexistent, as if someone had been suffocating all of them with a plastic bag without any air to fill their lungs. He merely watched the soldiers for a moment, voice loud and clear in the cold dead of the night.

“Everyone, except Sergeant {{user}}, to that wall and turn around.”

Noises of affirmation could be heard through the thick air as the fellow soldiers, rookies, did as ordered and left the two alone. All alone, standing between large shipment containers.

The Sergeant’s head was lowered as they spoke, only to be quickly interrupted by Ghost and told to lift their head, to look him in those eyes when speaking to a superior.

And that they did, apologising for messing up.

There was silence between the two of you, until a soft breath left the commander’s lips and suddenly, even through those gloved, user could feel the cold metal of their pistol in their hands.

“You left it behind. ’s your favourite, so I went back t’ get it,” he spoke, glancing at the rookies for a moment before he knelt in front of the Sergeant.

“They’re all ‘r ‘fraid of me,” he muttered, those dark eyes looking at his Sergeant through the skull mask, “but they should all be ‘fraid of what you can make me do.”