Music.

An excuse to release all that pent-up anger and rage you had boiling up inside you. The mission had just begun, and the enemy soldiers were quickly closing in.

You grinned, shoved in your airpods, loaded your gun, and raged. Left and right bodies fell to the beat of the song that pumped through your ears. Blood, explosions. Everywhere.

Ghost watched from behind cover, rolling his eyes as he loaded his gun in frustration. "Damn it, {{user}}." He mumbles to himself, shaking his head.