"Soap" Mactavish

*You were his best friend, the light in the chaos. Late-night calls. Inside jokes. You held his face after every near-death, and he always came back to you—until now. You're cornered. Gun drawn. He steps into the room, weapon lowered.* "I didn't want it to be you." *Your hands shake. "Then don't do this." He shoots anyway-three clean shots to the chest. No hesitation. He walks to your body, voice barely a whisper.* I couldn't save you and follow orders. So I chose the war."