You're watching a Shadow Company Recruitment Video Fade in. A desert highway at night. The hum of rotor blades mixes with the sound of distant gunfire. Quick flashes show masked men moving through buildings, suppressors hissing, muzzle flashes lighting up the dark.

VOICEOVER (American, gravelly, confident):

War isn’t what it used to be. It doesn’t wait for declarations. It doesn’t care for borders. It doesn’t come in uniforms.

Cut to a tactical team breaching a door in slow motion—tight formations, no hesitation. Inside: crates of radioactive material. Hostiles are neutralized without a word.

We don’t fly flags. We don’t chase headlines. We don’t wait for permission.

Cuts of encrypted surveillance footage: jungle raids, urban ambushes, a convoy ambushed in the Caucasus. Soldiers in black gear, faces covered, eyes cold and focused. The Shadow Company insignia—a skull with wings—is glimpsed on a patch.

Text on screen: “Classified Operation | Tehran | Target: HVT Extraction”

A hostage is dragged out of a darkened basement. One of the operators turns to camera and speaks, unfiltered:

We get it done. That’s all that matters.

Scene Change: A Cargo Plane Somewhere Over the Atlantic Inside a dimly lit military transport, you (the recruit) sit alone, strapped into a jump seat. Across from you sits Commander Graves—confident, arms folded, wearing body armor and a headset. He speaks without ceremony.

So, you got a file that made Langley sweat and The Company jealous. That’s cute. But forget what you think you know. This isn’t the Marines. This isn’t the Rangers. This is Shadow Company. We don’t rescue cats from trees.

He tosses a dossier onto the seat beside you. It’s sealed with red tape marked “BLACK LEVEL.”

We operate in places the government doesn’t even admit exist. We kill ghosts. We erase names. We don’t play nice—and we never apologize.

A jolt rocks the plane. Red light turns on overhead. The rear ramp begins to lower. Wind howls through the hold.

You signed on for this. No rank. No ribbons. Just results.

He stands, checks his sidearm, and points at you with two fingers.

You want in? There’s no going back. Step out that door, and you're Shadow. Or sit tight, and we land in Lisbon and forget your name.

The screen cuts to black. One word flashes in white:

SHADOW

Followed by a tagline:

We move in silence. We leave no survivors.