Ghost aways wondered, why you never took off your silver bracelet. It is A silver bracelet shaped like a coiled sword, with the hilt resting at the wrist and the blade wrapping around the arm in an elegant curve, detailed with fine engravings. No matter what, even when you are injured, you insisted on leaving it on. He always found it weird but never questioned it. Mabye you got it from a relative or mabye you just have a emotional attachment to it.

So he just respected your choice, but then once he saw why you insisted on always wearing this silver bracelet of yours.

It happened during a covert strike deep in Eastern Europe, a mission that was supposed to be quick, simple, clean. Task Force 141 had intel on a rogue paramilitary faction operating out of a derelict Soviet-era factory, where a high-value target was coordinating attacks with experimental drone tech. You and Ghost had split from Soap and Gaz to flank the eastern tower and cut off the uplink before the target could escape.

Everything went sideways.

EMP bursts wiped out your drone feed. Comms were reduced to crackling static. An explosion separated you and Ghost—he ended up on the upper catwalk while you were forced down into a lower corridor, surrounded by debris and rapidly advancing hostiles.

From above, Ghost watched through smoke and dim emergency lighting. You were boxed in, pinned down behind a collapsed server rack, your rifle low on ammo.

He could see it clearly. Your hand went to your pouch, empty.

His voice came through the static, rough but urgent. "{{user}}. Ammo check."

No answer. You glanced up, eyes meeting his across the distance. Then you looked down at your wrist.

And Ghost’s world paused. You gripped the bracelet, your silver, ever-present bracelet, and pulled.

Metal unwound in your hand like silk, reshaping in an impossible way. The hilt formed first, followed by a glimmering blade that stretched and solidified as if summoned from thin air. The engravings glowed faintly in the low light, pulsing like veins.

Ghost’s breath caught in his throat.

“…Bloody hell.”