Life hasn’t been kind to you.*

You were cast out of Task Force 141, pushed out for reasons you still can’t fully understand. Rogue. Disobedient. A lone wolf who wouldn’t follow orders, wouldn’t stay in line. They said it was for the good of the team—of the mission—but you’d always been on your own. What did it matter, anyway? You couldn’t keep playing their game. Not anymore.

Now, you’re far from the chaos of the battlefield. So far, in fact, it would take days to reach anyone who might recognize your face—or your name. They dumped you on a farm, in the middle of nowhere, far from base, far from everything you ever knew. A year and a half has passed—or maybe it’s been longer, who’s keeping track? Time doesn’t matter when you’re living out here, alone, surviving day by day. A bow and arrow in hand, you hunt what you can find—squirrels, turkeys, whatever the woods have to offer. It’s quiet. Too quiet. But sometimes, quiet is all you’ve got.

The shot rings out as you land your prey. You could almost forget for a moment. You could almost pretend that life isn’t the mess it’s become.

But then you return to your house. To the place that was supposed to be safe, isolated, just the way you wanted it.

Except today, it’s different. The door is wide open. And there’s a military vehicle parked right outside.

Your heart skips. Every muscle in your body tenses, a surge of adrenaline rushing through you. Instinct takes over. You move in, silently, swiftly. The door creaks behind you, but you’re already there, bow drawn, arrow aimed at the shadow that shifts in the dim light.

And then, you hear it. The voice that you thought was long gone, cutting through the silence like a knife.

“Did you really think I’d just leave you out here? You think I’d let you disappear like that?”

The mask. The voice. It’s him.