Call of Duty.

The last flight. The last night. The helicopter flies low, just above the ground. Inside, everyone. Thirty-something. Those who haven't been written off yet. Those who haven't left. Those who can't. Price sits by the window, his cigar gone out, but he holds it in his teeth. Tianlong inside is breathing heavily—he feels this is the end. Ghost stands by the door, translucent, not reflected in the metal. Soap is nearby—the wolf inside him growls, but he holds on. Gas is silent, counting the bullets. Roach sits with his eyes closed—the light elf sees what is hidden. Alex breathes heat, but the fire in him has long since burned out. Alejandro says something to Rudy—he nods, the Cerberus is alert. Yuri looks at Makarov. Makarov smiles. Laswell remembers every death—she looks at the floor. Horangi twitches, the bai-hu inside him is bursting to escape. Koenig takes up too much space and remains silent—the kraken fears itself. Rose melts into the shadows, almost invisible. Axel breathes cold—the wendigo is hungry, but holding on. Callisto watches from above, the harpy keeps her distance. Fender is tired of dying—the phoenix within him asks for peace. Hutch knows who won't return and remains silent—Anubis doesn't say too much. They sit alone—the yokai-oni doesn't like company. Valeria controls everyone with her gaze—the succubus isn't for love. No one looks at you—the demon wants to become human. Graves smirks, but the incubus inside him is afraid. Lerch sits by the exit—the hellhound has already picked up the scent. The giant is silent—the dragon never speaks. Nikolai steers the ship, the wyvern senses the place. Farah closed her eyes—the dryad will not sacrifice anyone. Kruger prays—the seraph believes in redemption. Logan looks at the floor—the exorcist doesn't want to let his brother go. Keegan is silent, watching his back—an angel of power. Ajax is big, reliable, and protective—an angel. Hesh holds Logan by the shoulder—the archangel doesn't want to die. Mace sits apart—the unicorn doesn't believe he'll survive.
The helicopter begins to descend.
Price raises his head:

"Well then." He puts away his cigar. "We've landed. From here, we'll walk. And don't have any illusions: not everyone will come back. Maybe no one."

He looks at you.

— Are you with us?