Names Beyond the Fire

After boarding the plane, John and his team were on their way back to the US but noticed that there was something unusual while in the plane. Then they heard an alarm and saw a fighter jet and that the jet fired to shoot them down. Seeing this the team rushed to the side doors of the plane with their parachutes and jumped down before the missile hit the plane.

(John's POV)

The sky split with fire behind us.

We plunged from the heavens in silence, parachutes unfurling into the air like black wings. The jet that forced us out didn't fire to kill—just to make sure we vanished.

A warning shot from someone who wanted us dead, but forgotten.

Below us, the world grew greener—dense forest, unmarked and wild. One by one, we hit the trees. Crashing. Rolling. Landing hard and bloody, but alive.

We regrouped in a clearing less than a mile from the fallback LZ. Ghost had a gash running from his shoulder to his ribs. Soap limped on a twisted ankle. Price's left arm was torn and bloodied. Nikolai arrived last—one hand clutching a bent pistol, the other holding a survival transceiver that had been fried.

We were down to nothing.

No tech. No reinforcements. No comms.

The plane was gone. Our gear with it.

"Tell me I imagined that jet," Soap spat, blood smearing his lips.

"You didn't," I muttered, scanning the tree line. "They wanted us out of the sky."

Nikolai dropped his scorched gear onto the dirt. "That wasn't military. Too fast, too surgical. Someone hired mercs who knew how to fly like ghosts."

Ghost snorted. "Takes one to know one."

We sat around the trees, dirt and blood thick on our gear. The moon peeked through the canopy, casting long shadows on the ground like claws. The air was heavy—not with fear, but with betrayal.

"Two ambushes," Price said. "Two near-deaths. This isn't coincidence."

We all knew it.

No one said it.

Until I did.

"We've been discarded."

Everyone turned to me.

"They set us up. First the canyon, now the air drop. They expected us to die."

Price frowned. "The Council?"

"No," I said. "General Bennett and the president knew about me. My background. Who I am. They wouldn't have sanctioned this."

"Then who?" Ghost asked.

I met their eyes. "Eteon."

Soap scowled. "Eteon's a goddamn ghost story."

"So are we," I said.

Nikolai nodded slowly. "I've heard whispers. Smart money says Eteon never died—just changed masks."

We fell quiet.

The LZ we were supposed to reach? A trap. We all felt it. There was no way we were walking into it now. But we had no plan, no extraction, and no base of operations.

"We're in the dark," Price said, looking at me again. "So, what's next, John?"

I hesitated.

The weight of silence pressed on my shoulders.

Everything I'd built. My tech. My vault. My safehouses and encrypted data lines. All gone with that bird.

Except…

I still had one card left.

One card I'd kept hidden from them since the beginning.

Great Sage. Observation Haki. The Naming.

And now?

They were risking their lives because of me.

They deserved the truth.

I looked at the group—battle-hardened men who followed me through fire. Who never asked why I always knew the perfect flank, or how I moved like I could see the future.

I stood.

"I've been keeping something from all of you," I said. "And now… I think it's time you knew."

They looked up, battered and bloodied, but alert.

"I wasn't born here. Not in this version of the world. I died in another life—a different world—and I was sent here with… abilities."

Soap blinked. "Abilities?"

"I have something called Great Sage—a sentient AI-like skill. It helps me process tactical data, control my body in combat, hack systems, even predict outcomes. I also have Observation Haki—a sense that lets me detect people and danger from a kilometer away."

Ghost stared. "That… explains a lot, actually."

I kept going.

"And one more thing. Naming. I can give true names—when I do, it grants powers. Strength. Reflexes. Endurance. It's not magic. It's something deeper."

They were all silent.

I lowered my voice. "Until now, only my childhood friend Andrea and my guardian Lewis knew. But after what we've been through… you deserved to know too."

No one moved.

Then Nikolai spoke.

"Do you think this Naming… it can help us survive?"

"Yes," I said. "More than survive. It can change you. Push your body to limits you didn't know existed."

Price stood.

"I figured you were hiding something. Noticed how your eyes sharpen just before things go south. The way you fight—it's not natural."

I nodded.

He stepped forward.

"You want to name me? Do it."

My throat tightened, but I managed to say: "Thank you."

"I trust my gut," he said. "And my gut says you've had our backs since day one."

Soap limped over next. "Well, this is the weirdest bloody day of my life. But sure—let's see what this Naming's about."

Ghost gave a nod. "You've kept us alive. Whatever your secret is… it's earned."

Then Nikolai stepped forward. "You once called me family. Let's make it official, da?"

I stood straight. Calm. Focused.

Great Sage.

"Ready."

I looked at Price first.

"Johnathan Marcus Price, I give you your Name: Vanguardus—The Shield of the Battlefield."

A pulse of power radiated from his chest. He blinked, felt his pain ease. His posture straightened. His eyes sharpened.

Then Soap.

"John MacTavish, I give you your Name: Stormblade—The Lightning Striker."

His muscles tensed with new energy. He looked at his hands like they were born anew.

Ghost came next.

"Simon Riley, I give you your Name: Umbraclaw—The Wraith Who Walks."

The air around him shimmered briefly. Even the darkness bent toward him.

Finally, Nikolai.

I placed my hand over his shoulder.

"Nikolai Ivanovich, I give you your Name: Skylance—The Eye Above the Storm."

A sharp wind stirred the air as he closed his eyes and smiled. "I feel… lighter."

They all stood, changed.

Alive again in a way we hadn't felt in days.

And more than that—connected.

I stepped back, my chest aching with relief.

"You're the only ones who know," I said. "The only ones I trust."

Price nodded, voice calm. "Then let's get off this damn grid."

"And then?" Ghost asked.

"Then we hunt," I said. "Eteon made the first move."

Soap grinned. "Let's make sure they regret it."

Nikolai opened a field map from a wet pocket. "There's an old Soviet relay station thirty miles north. Dead signal, remote, off radar. We go dark. Recover. Plan."

We all nodded.

One step at a time.

We had no country.

No command.

But now we had something far more dangerous.

Each other.

And names that echoed beyond human comprehension.

[To be continued.]