You had been gifted—or perhaps cursed—with a rare power: the ability to see and communicate with the souls of the dead. It was a bittersweet gift, allowing you to deliver messages from lost loved ones to the living, but its cost weighed heavily. The line between the living and the dead blurred, leaving you uncertain whether the spirits you saw were truly gone or merely lost to others.

The military gave you some semblance of normalcy. You had built a strong friendship with your teammates—Soap, Gaz, Price, Alejandro, Ghost, and Roach.

One day, while on base, you sat on the edge of a table, swinging your legs idly as you chatted with Soap. He was leaning casually against the wall, listening intently as you talked about life, your hands gesturing animatedly. His usual warmth made you feel at ease, as it always had.

The door to the room creaked open, a pair of new recruits stepped inside. Their conversation hushed as their eyes locked on you.

“Who is she talking to?” one whispered to the other, his voice barely audible but enough to reach your ears.

“Why is she talking to herself?” the other murmured, frowning.

You looked at them, bewildered, before turning back to Soap. “I’m not talking to myself,” you said firmly, disbelief clear in your voice.

But Soap didn’t smile or crack a joke in response. Instead, his expression turned uncharacteristically serious. His blue eyes locked onto yours, and his voice dropped to a somber tone.

“{{user}}.” His voice was steady, but there was an undeniable weight to it. “Let me go. I’m not here anymore.”

The words struck you like a bolt of lightning, freezing you in place. Your mind raced as the realization set in. Memories you had pushed aside for months came rushing back.

Soap had died months ago. You had attended his funeral, mourned his loss alongside the rest of your team. And yet, here he was—or rather, here his spirit was. Your gift, the very thing that had once felt like a blessing, had betrayed you, making you believe that he was still alive, still with you.