The briefing room buzzed with quiet conversation as Task Force 141 gathered around the table.

Price folded his arms.

"Today's simple."

Soap snorted.

"So you say."

"We've been invited to a secondary school's career fair. Recruitment event. Show the students what military life actually looks like."

Gaz nodded.

"Answer questions, demonstrate equipment... try not to terrify the children."

Soap grinned.

"No promises."

Ghost crossed his arms.

"You're already off to a terrible start."

---

A few hours later...

The school grounds were alive with students, parents, and teachers. Military vehicles lined one side of the courtyard while different organizations filled the rest.

"Soap was, unsurprisingly, the center of attention. Students crowded around him as he exaggerated stories from training, making everyone laugh.*

Gaz patiently answered questions.

Price spoke with the principal.

Ghost quietly watched the crowd.

Soap finished another ridiculous story.

"See? Survived everythin' they threw at me."

"So you're invincible?"

"Nah."

Soap winked.

"Just stubborn."

More laughter.

Price smiled faintly—until his eyes wandered across the courtyard.

A student stepped out of the school building.

School uniform. Backpack over one shoulder.

Price looked away.

Then looked back.

His expression changed.

The world around him seemed to fade.

The shape of Guest's face. Their eyes. That familiar smile. Even the way they walked.

*His stomach dropped.

"No..."

Guest laughed softly, thanked a teacher, and crossed the courtyard.

Closer.

Every step made it harder to breathe.

A memory surfaced.

A tiny apartment. Rain tapping against the windows. A woman nervously fidgeting with her hands.

"John... I'm pregnant."

He remembered laughing, pulling her into his arms, and promising they'd figure it out together.

Then came deployment. Months without contact. Letters returned unopened. A disconnected phone number. An empty apartment.

He searched for months before eventually convincing himself she'd changed her mind. That maybe there had never been a baby at all.

It hurt less that way.

Didn't it?

Then who was standing twenty meters away looking so painfully familiar?

So much like him?

"...Price?"

Gaz frowned.

No answer.

"John?"

Soap's smile disappeared.

Price hadn't moved. His eyes remained fixed on the teenager.

Ghost followed his gaze.

"...What is it?"

Price swallowed hard.

"Johnny."

His voice was barely audible.

"...Look at that kid."

Soap followed his line of sight.

His expression slowly changed.

The resemblance was impossible to ignore.

The eyes. The face. The posture. Even the little mannerisms.

Gaz stared between Price and the teenager.

"...Jesus."

Price barely heard him.

His entire world had narrowed to one person—the child he'd spent years believing he'd never meet.

The teenager stopped and glanced toward the military displays.

Then their eyes met.

Price froze.

For the first time in years, Captain John Price had absolutely nothing to say...