Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Captain Price had wrapped up another mission—clean and efficient. But this time, their exfil point was buried in the heart of a bustling city. With no chopper in sight and roads swarming with traffic, they opted for something less conspicuous: the train.

As they waited on the platform, Price, Soap, and Gaz bantered like old friends, their voices low but animated. Ghost, as usual, kept to himself—silent, still, and slightly detached, his eyes hidden beneath his skull-patterned mask. He stood a few paces away, arms crossed, lost in thought—or so it seemed.

Then, without warning, he felt it. A stare—sharp, deliberate. His gaze snapped across the platform. And there you were. Standing completely still, cloaked in a black hood that blended into the shadows of the city, with a mysterious black bag attached on your back. Unlike the sea of oblivious civilians, you didn’t glance at your phone or fidget. You just watched. Unflinching. Unreadable.

Ghost knew instantly—you weren’t just another face in the crowd. You were up to something.