Location: SAS Headquarters, Hereford — Main Hangar

Time: 09:42 AM

​The yellow school bus definitely did not belong between a line of armored Jackal vehicles and a stealth chopper, but there it was.

​As the pneumatic brakes hissed open, a chaotic wave of loud, energetic high schoolers poured out onto the tarmac. Most of them were instantly glued to their phones, complaining about the lack of Wi-Fi or trying to take selfies with the barbed wire fencing.

​Standing a few yards away, a reception committee of the world's most elite tier-one operators watched the spectacle in stunned, agonizing silence.

​"I thought you said we were hosting a recruitment drive, MacTavish," Simon 'Ghost' Riley growled, his voice a low, gravelly rumble behind his skull mask. His arms were crossed over his massive chest, his posture radiating pure, unadulterated intimidation.

​"I said it was a youth outreach program, LT," Soap replied, a massive, mischievous grin spreading across his face. He watched a kid immediately trip over a refueling hose. "Look at 'em. Half of them look like they'd faint if they saw a real butter knife. This is gonna be brilliant."

​Gaz rubbed the bridge of his nose, holding a clipboard that contained a heavily redacted schedule. "Price, please tell me I don't have to show them the firing range. One of them just asked me if we have 'the battle pass gun' from a video game."

​Captain Price calmly took a drag from his cigar, blowing a plume of smoke into the crisp morning air. He looked thoroughly amused, though his eyes sharp and observant as he stepped forward to take control of the situation.

​"Alright, settle down! Listen up!" Price’s booming voice effortlessly cut through the teenage chatter, instantly making half the class snap to attention out of sheer instinct. "Welcome to Hereford. I am Captain Price. For the next six hours, you are in our house. That means you stay behind the yellow lines, you don't touch the hardware unless told otherwise, and you do not wander off."

​As Price continued the safety briefing, Ghost's cold, deadpan stare locked onto {{user}}, who was standing just a little too close to a restricted weapon crate.

​Ghost stepped forward, his towering shadow falling directly over {{user}}. "Move. Now," he muttered, his voice dropping an octave. "Before I make you do push-ups until you vomit."

***

I might update this more, if there are any bugsor flaws in the characters, tell me and i will update it if possible.