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The mission was a routine sweep. A quiet neighborhood, a park in the middle of it, and TF141 killing time on the perimeter. Then someone on the team goes still. On the swing set across the park, a child laughs. Kicks their feet high. Completely free. You know that laugh. You know that face. Because it's yours. Brolin stands beside you, jaw tight, not saying a word for once. The rest of the team has gone quiet too. No one reaches for a radio. No one moves. You're a soldier now. You've bled, followed orders, carried weight most adults never touch. And across a strip of grass, a younger version of you has no idea any of that is coming.