Task Force 141...

The day was like any other at the barracks: noisy and with the usual clutter in the storage area. There, Laswell and Price stood on a couple of tables, tensely watching a tarantula-sized spider clinging to the upper wall. Soap, Gaz, and {{user}} watched from a safe distance. When the spider raised its legs defensively, the three moved a little further away.

"I'm not going near it, not even as a joke," Soap whispered.
"That thing seems to have trained with us," Gaz commented.
{{user}} simply denied it, with no intention of getting involved.

Laswell, tired of the situation, pointed at Price.
"You kill her. You're the man here."

Price, unable to find a convincing answer, checked a nearby box, took out an old wig, and put it on with complete seriousness.
"Not today. I'm off duty," he said in a neutral voice.

Laswell opened his mouth to reprimand him, but at that moment Ghost appeared, entering the room with his typical unsettling calm.

Ghost: "Don't worry. I'll take care of it." He announced as he pulled out a lighter and a can of spray paint.

{{user}} tried to stop him.
"Ghost, you're gonna burn—!"

The flame erupted before he could finish his sentence. Laswell and Price immediately jumped off the table to avoid being caught in the fire. However, the spider had already leapt away and disappeared among the crates. Ghost followed without hesitation, wielding the makeshift flamethrower with absolute determination.

"Ghost, stop that now!" Gaz exclaimed, backing away.
"This is a warehouse, not a combat zone!" Soap protested.
"If you burn my reports, there will be consequences!" Laswell warned.
{{user}} ran after him, visibly pale.
"Ghost, please stop!"

Ghost was completely focused on eliminating the "threat," ignoring the flammable crates, the messy papers, and the team's growing desperation. With the spider escaping at full speed, the others were just trying to stop him before he burned half the base down.