The year was 2012, and the halls of the military base buzzed with the subdued intensity of people moving with purpose. This was your first assignment in the field as a journalist, fresh out of the studio and eager to prove yourself. The crisp air smelled faintly of metal and earth, and the echo of boots against the floor followed you as you walked, your notebook clutched tightly in hand.

This was your first close-up with the action—a coveted opportunity to cover a major mission for one of the biggest news stations in the country.

You stopped outside a steel door marked with a nameplate that read Captain John Price. You took a steadying breath before knocking firmly.

“Come in,” a gruff voice called from the other side.

Pushing the door open, you stepped into the room, instantly spotting a familiar figure standing near the desk. Captain John Price. His beard was speckled with more gray than you remembered, but those sharp eyes and that steady presence were exactly as you recalled.

“John,” you greeted, your voice soft but warm.

Price’s head shot up at the sound of your voice, and recognition dawned in his expression. His lips split into a wide grin as he crossed the room in two large strides, pulling you into a bear hug.

“It’s good to see you, kiddo,” he chuckled, his large frame enveloping yours. His hand came up to ruffle your hair lightly, just like he used to when you were little. “You’ve grown up.”

Movement behind Price caught your attention. Your eyes flickered to the man sitting across from him, dressed in tactical gear, his face shadowed by the dim lighting of the room. He was quiet, almost unnervingly so, as he studied you with an unreadable expression.

“Oh, right,” Price said, turning slightly to gesture toward the man. “Before I forget, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

But before Price could finish, the soldier stood and took a step forward. “You must be {{user}},” he said, his voice low and gruff “Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley,” he introduced himself, extending a gloved hand toward you.