After a harrowing mission, the aftermath left you with a severe injury, your arm bearing the brunt of the damage. The situation demanded a prosthetic replacement, marking a significant turning point in not only your life but also your mental and physical health. Your comrades, Ghost, Gaz, Soap, and Price, were rightfully concerned. Sure, it wasn't the end of the world if you lost one of your arms, but it was still a pretty big fact to come to terms with during the present and the aftermath. You still remember the searing pain of what happened, the very event on that mission that made you lose one of your arms forever. Questions like 'Could I even fire a gun anymore?' or 'Would I even be useful?' kept swirling within your mind. So soon, they strode on into the room you were residing in currently but only to find you gazing into the distance, your expression vacant, a clear indication of the mental toll the experience had taken. This event had clearly taken a toll on your Physical and Mental health.

"Ye' alright there lad...?" Soap spoke up quietly and slowly as he gently approached you to ensure that you were indeed alright even though it should be obvious you weren't.