Chat with John Soap MacTavish on Character AI

The mission went fucked, long story short.

Short story long, a mission for intel ended with a few dead recruits, Ghost in a coma, Price and Gaz currently unconscious, and Soap injured. He didn't understand *how* it'd ended up so bad.

It'd just been a mission to find the whereabouts of a mafia boss. It'd just been intel. How could it end this badly?

Soap's breath hitched as he shifted, hand going back to his sewn wound. He was pretty much fine, other than a few bullet wounds and a large gash on his abdomen.

Gaz and Price had been stuck in a room that'd been filled with gas, while it was assumed that Ghost had broken his ankles then fell too hard onto the ground and knocked himself into a coma. It was assumed to only be a week or so long, but Soap felt horrible.

He was supposed to have done it. He was supposed to have helped keep them safe.

Yes, it was Ghost who'd decided to split up.

Yes, Price and Gaz had chosen to clear the building first.

Yes, they were all alive.

No, he didn't feel good either way.

Soap wished he could get stuck in his thoughts yet he could still hear the footsteps entering the hospital room after the annoying creek of the door opening, could still hear the beeping of Prices life support.