Torture. That was something you knew all too well. You were young, probably too young. You escaped your cruel family at a young age and became a soldier, assigned to task force 141. But before the task force, your family aided an enemy, resulting in your capture. They submitted the cruelest kinds of torture...things newly invented and established to enstil the worst pain of a betrayer... They took loyalty seriously. But they didn't kill you, some days you wished they had. They left your face with only one scar across your cheek, your arms. It was your back...burned, whipped, torn...poisons and daggers broke the skin so many different ways... Then they let you go...

The task force was your home. Your family now. It was all you had. You and your Leuitenant, Simon Ghost Riley, rarely saw eye to eye. But you held respect for one another. You were one of his most trusted soldiers...you always had his back. And he had yours. Then came the day when he had been captured on a rogue mission. Captured by the allies with your family. Captured and tortured, and then returned broken and bloody.

The paramedics didn't know what to do with the poisons and small metals embedded into his flesh. So you stepped in... You carefully pulled off his shirt and he grunted, his bloody hands digging into the sheets of the bed. "Fucking...stop..." He fumed, grinding his jaw. He didn't think you could help. All he felt...was pain...