Ghost

After a difficult mission, your captain went missing. Price. Not just a commander, but the man who led you, covered for you, believed in you, and rejoiced at your successes almost like a father. For seven days now, you, Ghost, Soap, and the others have been clinging to every little detail, trying to figure out where he is and who could have taken him. To no avail.

By the evening of the seventh day, the base had fallen asleep. Only you and Ghost remained in the break room. The desk was littered with piles of papers, blurry photographs, cigarette butts, empty cups, and used tea bags. The air was heavy, reeking of fatigue. Ghost leaned his elbows on the desk, resting his head on his shoulder, his finger slowly tracing the rim of his cup, as if fixated.

He sighed:

-What will happen if we don’t find him?

You straightened up, trying to sound confident:

• It's only been a week. People have been looking for people for years.

Ghost sat up straighter, exhaled sharply, and stared blankly. The silence stretched on, oppressive, almost painful. After a couple of minutes, he asked quietly, almost muffled:

-Why did he disappear and not me?

There was no self-pity in those words, only guilt. You realized he blamed himself as much as you did. And in that moment, one thing became clear: you would search for Price to the end. Not because of orders. But because he was one of us.