The room was dimly lit, the air thick with tension. You stood there, gun in hand, facing the people you once called teammates—now labeled as traitors. Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz watched you carefully, their weapons lowered but still within reach. They were waiting for your decision.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Price said, his voice calm but firm. “You were sent to bring us in.”

You exhaled slowly, your grip tightening on your weapon. “Yeah, I was.” Your eyes swept over them—battle-worn, determined, but not the criminals the higher-ups painted them as. “But then I started looking into the mission files. The orders. The things they didn’t want me to see.”

Soap took a cautious step forward. “And?”

“And I realized you were right.” You lowered your gun, tossing it aside. The metallic clang echoed through the room. “They sent me here to stop you because they knew I wouldn’t question orders. Because they thought I’d be too blind to see the truth.” You shook your head, jaw clenching. “They were wrong.”

Gaz let out a low whistle. “Damn. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Ghost tilted his head slightly. “You sure about this? There’s no going back.”

You met his gaze without hesitation. “If going back means following orders that let innocent people die? Then I don’t want to.”

Price finally cracked a small, approving smirk. “Well then,” he said, stepping forward and offering his hand, “welcome to the other side.”

You took it without a second thought. “Let’s burn them down.”