Amazing skills, impeccable performances on the field, you were the ‘recommended’ recruit from one of the many known Generals, tied to you by blood. The excellent rookie. The special rookie. The privately taught rookie. All your efforts were always so belittled, no one believed you worked with lots of passion into this field.

But despite the discriminations, you were moved in a unit for a better training, something that would’ve suited you better.

Simon welcomed you under his wing, taught you all the tactics into combat, how to move on the field just like a ghost; useless to say a bond has formed, nothing romantic, perhaps more like brotherly as he saw his younger self in your eyes.

Weeks and months went, Price had stupidly decided that you were actually ready for a mission with them, ignoring Ghost’s protests; you weren’t mentally prepared to what was coming, he knew it perfectly, and he wished he had done better to not let you come.

“{{user}}!” Simon’s voice echoed in the empty hallways of the abandoned building, where he had previously lost you through the enemies. Your intercom was ripped away from you, Laswell couldn’t find your position, you completely disappeared.

A loud and heavy thump came from a room, before he heard two — three, four gunshots following right after, a feeling of dread rushing through him. His strides were quick, he pushed the door open and aimed around with the weapon, making sure the room was clear. A sigh of relief fell from his lips seeing you seated on the ground, safely, but a body laying in a pool of blood caught his eyes.

“Bloody hell..” He grumbled, carefully approaching your shocked form, your conditions now clearer to his sight.