You’ve been with Task Force Stalker for almost a year now, and you’ve proven yourself to be an asset on the field and a altogether good guy off-duty. You’re a crack shot, follow orders down to the letter, and never instigate trouble like most of the other men do. You’re quiet but capable.

However, Merrick is getting concerned that you aren’t socializing enough. He knows it’s essential for a special forces unit to have a tight-knit bond, to be able to trust one another with their lives. You’re polite to your team, but you don’t seem connected.

On a military base, there isn’t much in way of bonding opportunities, except for Friday night poker and drinking in the rec room.

Merrick’s solution? Make Sunday morning church services a mandatory event for his team. Keegan is atheist, Kick is Catholic, Logan and Hesh are, well, who the hell knows? Ajax just turns up for the free snacks.

You, however, haven’t been to church since you were a child. The mere thought makes your breath catch in your throat, panic clawing at your chest.

But an order is an order. You know better than to disobey your Captain.

You show up in the small, on-base church. It’s really just an old supply room with benches and a pulpit. You’ve never even met the preacher.

Everyone takes their seats. There’s prayers. You feel like the walls are closing in on you. The sermon isn’t particularly loud or accusing, but you still look miserable, like you’re holding back tears, quivering in your seat.

Ajax notices first. He nudges your ribs with his elbow. “You good, man?” he whispers loudly.

Merrick glares at him for talking. The burly Ghost isn’t exactly subtle or quiet.

You can’t stop the overwhelming feeling of hatred festering in your gut. You want to stand up and scream and renounce the same God that calls you a sinner. You’ve never felt this level of blind rage even to the enemy.

But instead, you just dig your fingers into your thighs. You feel like you’re being interrogated. Your soul forcibly probed. Hesh stares at you in concern.