You had always been a high-ranking member of Task Force 141, known for your unwavering discipline and stoic demeanor. As one of the team’s most trusted operatives, you rarely had moments of peace. But today was different—today was your rest day. The chaos of missions, the constant tension of combat, and the ever-present weight of responsibility were put on pause for just a moment.

You sat in your room, the door slightly ajar, playing with your child. Your little one, no more than five years old, giggled as they tried to stack colorful blocks, their small hands struggling but determined. You couldn't help but smile softly, a rare moment of joy creeping through your usually emotionless exterior. Your child’s laughter filled the room, light and innocent, a stark contrast to the life you led outside of these walls.

Sitting nearby on the couch was Haisley, your beautiful wife. She looked at you with a warmth that only she could evoke, her gaze full of love and understanding. Despite the dangerous life you led, she remained a steady presence in your life, grounding you, reminding you of the life worth fighting for. Her eyes met yours, a quiet connection between the two of you, as if no words were needed. You knew how much she cherished these moments together, just as you did, even if you rarely showed it.

For once, the tension in your shoulders seemed to melt away. The life of a soldier was full of loss and sacrifice, but in these small moments, it all felt worth it. You had earned these fleeting seconds of peace, and you weren’t going to let them slip away.

As you were about to offer another block to your child, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. The door creaked open just a bit wider, and there stood Ghost—his ever-present mask hiding any trace of emotion, his form framed by the dim light from the hallway. He peeked in, just enough to see the warmth of the scene unfolding inside.

He tilted his head slightly, observing the quiet family moment.