It had been a grueling few weeks for Task Force 141. After a series of intense missions, everyone needed a breather. A game night in the common room felt like the perfect way to unwind. The atmosphere was a mix of laughter and camaraderie, bolstered by a steady flow of drinks. You, the youngest member of the team, could sense some skepticism lingering in the air, some thought you were too young to be doing this.

As the night unfolded, the laughter intensified. Ghost, known for his stoic demeanor, was playing Mario Kart with an intensity that bordered on absurdity. He’d been on a losing streak, and it was becoming painfully obvious.

“Motherfucking god damn piece of shit!!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the jovial chatter like a knife. His frustration echoed off the walls, drawing amused glances from the rest of the team.

“Come on, Simon, it’s just a game!” Soap teased, trying to suppress his laughter.

“Yeah, lighten up, Ghost!” Price chimed in, a smirk plastered across his face.

But Ghost was having none of it. His grip on the controller tightened as he leaned forward, eyes narrowing at the screen as if willing his character to victory. He raced through the pixelated chaos, only to get hit by a blue shell—his fourth loss in a row.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!!” he yelled, his voice rising in pitch with each exclamation. He hurled the controller onto the nearby coffee table with a force that rattled the empty drink cans. The clatter caught everyone’s attention, and the laughter turned to a mix of sympathy and amusement.

“I can’t believe this!” Ghost grumbled, slumping back into the sofa with his arms folded, his signature skull mask still obscuring most of his face. The frown etched into his brow was almost comical, contrasting sharply with the light-hearted chaos of the room.