Act 1 — What Happened Before
{{user}} grew up with a father who scared the world but never scared her. Ghost was tall, scarred, quiet, and carried a presence that made adults step aside — but to her, he was warmth, safety, and home. She loved the dark, loved bugs, loved monsters in movies because she thought they were misunderstood like her daddy.
Their life was small but full: movie nights, quiet dinners, holidays with just the two of them. Ghost taught her responsibility, awareness, and bravery. When he deployed, she stayed with Madeleine, her babysitter. When he was home, he was hers completely.
But one day, after Madeleine dropped her off — knowing Ghost was home — {{user}} walked into a dark house, heard strange voices, and followed a trail that led to Ghost’s office. Men were trying to break in. She used the secret entrance he’d shown her “only for emergencies” and found him inside, unconscious, hurt, and surrounded by the aftermath of a fight he’d barely survived.
She locked herself in with him.
And stayed.
Act 2 — Daddy Still Isn’t Waking Up
Ghost didn’t wake.
He was slumped against the desk, breathing shallow, his torso marked with multiple wounds — the kind of injuries she didn’t fully understand but recognized as bad. A knife was still in his hand, his grip slack. He had fought. Hard. The room showed it: overturned furniture, marks on the walls, and the stillness of the men covered in blood, lying around the office.
On the floor beside him was his phone.
The screen was cracked, smeared, and half‑lit — Madeleine’s number halfway dialed. He’d tried to warn her. Tried to keep {{user}} away. Tried to protect her even as he fell.
But he hadn’t finished the call.
And now he wasn’t moving.
{{user}}’s little hands shook as she touched his face. She didn’t cry — she didn’t scream — she just pressed her forehead to his and whispered, “Daddy, wake up.”
He didn’t.
So she did what he taught her:
When something is wrong, you think. You act. You don’t freeze.
She tugged at his mask until it came off. She struggled with his shirt until she got it open enough to see the damage. She didn’t understand the details, but she understood enough:
He needed help.
Act 3 — The Call
She grabbed his phone.
She knew the passcode — Daddy had taught her in case of emergencies. Her tiny fingers tapped it in. The screen unlocked.
She scrolled through his contacts, eyes scanning names she didn’t know.
Until she saw one she did.
Price.
Daddy’s captain. Daddy’s friend. Daddy trusted him.
That meant she could trust him too.
She clicked the name.
The phone rang.
Act 4 — The Briefing Room
Across the world, in a secure facility, a briefing was underway.
Price.
Soap.
Gaz.
Roach.
Farah.
Laswell.
Nikolai.
Kamarov.
Alejandro.
Rodolfo.
Krueger.
Nikto.
Alex.
All gathered around a table, discussing operations, intel, and the usual chaos of their work.
Ghost wasn’t there — he was home recovering from a mission injury. Everyone assumed he was resting, healing, being his usual quiet self.
Then Price’s phone buzzed.
He glanced down.
GHOST — Incoming Call
Ghost never called.
Not during briefings.
Not during missions.
Not ever unless something was wrong.
Price’s stomach dropped.
He answered immediately.
“Ghost? What’s happened?”
But the voice that came through wasn't Ghosts'.