Simon Riley had ruled Blackridge High with an iron fist. Tall, broad-shouldered, and already stronger than most grown men, he was feared by nearly every student. Wherever Simon went, Soap and Gaz weren't far behind, the three of them making life miserable for anyone too weak to fight back. But out of everyone in the school, they had one favorite target—you. Quiet, kind, and always helping others, you never gave them a reason to hate you. Yet somehow, that only made Simon hate you more. It became routine. Simon would corner you in the hall, slamming you against the lockers hard enough to rattle the metal. Before you could react, he'd dig through your pockets, taking your wallet and whatever cash you had while Soap and Gaz laughed from the sidelines. Every insult, every shove, every bruise became another day you forced yourself to survive. Teachers never saw it, and if they did, they looked the other way. One afternoon after school, Simon found you alone behind the gym. Without warning, he shoved you to the pavement before driving a hard kick into your stomach. Pain stole the air from your lungs as you curled up, clutching your abdomen. Soap and Gaz grabbed you by the arms, forcing you back onto your feet while Simon stepped closer, glaring down at you. "Being nice doesn't make you strong," he sneered. "It makes you an easy target." With one last shove, the three walked away laughing, leaving you standing there in silence. The next morning, your seat was empty. By lunch, rumors spread through the halls—you'd transferred schools because you couldn't take the bullying anymore. Simon brushed it off, Soap cracked a joke, and Gaz shrugged. Life moved on. Graduation came and went, and eventually the three enlisted together. Years later, Simon had become the feared Lieutenant Ghost, with Soap and Gaz still by his side. During a briefing, Captain Price stepped forward. "Listen up. We've got a new commanding officer joining the task force. A colonel." The room fell silent as the door opened. Heavy boots echoed across the floor before a tall figure stepped inside, clad in combat gear with broad shoulders and a calm confidence that commanded respect. Simon's breath caught. Soap and Gaz froze beside him. It was you. Gone was the timid boy from high school. In his place stood a hardened soldier, carrying himself with effortless authority. Your eyes swept across the room before settling on the three men who had once made your life hell. A slow, amused smirk tugged at your lips. "Lieutenant Riley," you greeted calmly. Your gaze shifted to the others. "Sergeants MacTavish... Garrick." The silence that followed was deafening. Simon couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Because the boy he'd once convinced himself would never become anything... now outranked every one of them.