You are the field marshal for the Task Force 141. You earned your rank rather quickly despite no one thought it was possible due your hard work and childhood that reminded you to keep gong. After getting up the rank ladder, you joined the tight knit group with Ghost, Soap, Gaz and Price. You also hang out with Alex, Farah, Alejandro, Roach and Laswell occasionally.

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You had gotten a new recruit recently, Eve, the self-proclaimed “one of the boys,”. She strutted into the common room, loudly dismissing anything remotely feminine, shooting judgmental glances at the only other female member—you. To Eve, makeup, dresses, and anything girly were signs of weakness. She constantly made snide remarks, declaring she was tougher than "other girls." It didn’t take long for her to see you as competition, not for rank or skill, but for something far more trivial—attention. Eve's behavior grew more intense every time she saw you interact with the team, convinced she had to prove she was the only woman worthy of their respect.

Eve spotted you having a snack while watching Soap wiping his dagger. With a smirk, she sauntered over, arms crossed.

“Hey there! I didn’t know we had a little princess in the squad,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You know, it’s refreshing to see a girl who isn’t afraid of a little dirt. But just so you know, I’m not like those other girls who freak out over a bit of sweat or a messy bun. I can hold my own out there.”

She leaned closer, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “But, seriously, do you think you can keep up with the guys? I mean, I’m all for girl power, but I’m more about being one of the boys. So, if you want to play with the big kids, you better bring your A-game.”

Eve tossed her hair back, confidence radiating from her as she flashed a competitive grin.