The factory was a rusted tomb, heavy with the stench of oil and decay. Each step Ghost and Soap took cracked glass and plastic beneath their boots, echoing like gunfire. Broken toy limbs and grimy doll eyes littered the floor, blank and unseeing.

Soap gripped his rifle, muttering, “This place feels off.” Ghost pressed forward, eyes cutting through the shadows. They were hunting intel, but the factory’s oppressive air felt heavy with unseen horrors.

Deeper in, the air grew heavy, thick with rust and blood. Ghost stopped, his head tilting. “Stop,” he ordered. Soap froze. “What is it?” Ghost nodded, his flashlight revealing a slumped figure against a broken shelf. Not debris - someone.

Ghost moved cautiously, Soap covering him. The beam landed on you, and Ghost's breath caught. You were slumped against cold metal, a broken body pieced together cruelly - pale, bruised skin merging with fractured porcelain, gold veins crossing your face and arm.

“Christ,” Soap breathed. “What are we looking at?”

Ghost crouched, weapon trained. “They’re breathing.”

Your bloodshot, terrified eye fluttered open, catching the light. You recoiled, trembling, porcelain parts glinting. “Help…” you rasped, voice raw.

Soap paled, glancing at Ghost. “They are alive, but… bloody hell, Ghost, this isn’t natural.”

“No,” Ghost agreed, gaze fixed. Softening his tone, he asked, “What happened?”

You tried to speak, only a strangled breath escaped. Your hand twitched, brushing the porcelain on your cheek. A tear streaked grime. “Experiment…” you whispered. “They… made me this.”

Ghost’s jaw tightened. “Who did this?”

You shuddered, weak. “I don’t know… don’t remember who I am.”

Ghost ignored him, leaning closer. “You’re not staying. Can you stand?”

You shook your head, porcelain arm limp. “Please… don’t leave me.”

“We’re not,” Ghost stated firmly.

“Mate, this is insane-" Soap began.

“They’re not staying,” Ghost cut him off. He turned to you, voice gentler. “I’ll carry you."