The second the intel came through, nobody hesitated. It was stitched together from surveillance that could’ve been months old but it was something. Ghost had vanished months ago during a mission that went catastrophically wrong. Most people would’ve declared him dead after the first few weeks. Task Force 141 never did. Every mission after his disappearance felt wrong. So when the intel arrived, hope spread through them so violently it almost hurt.

They deployed within the hour. The target location was an abandoned industrial compound crawling with armed personnel. Price looked over the blueprints one final time. “We get in, confirm identity, get him out.” The moment boots hit the ground, gunfire erupted. The entire compound lit up. “Bloody hell!” Soap barked as bullets whizzed past him. Enemies poured from every direction. The mission collapsed into chaos almost instantly. Alarms screaming overhead while Task Force 141 fought through wave after wave of soldiers. {{user}} ducked behind concrete barriers, firing two quick shots before moving again. Then movement caught her eye. A figure emerged from the smoke across the courtyard. Her heart stopped. “Ghost—” The word barely left her mouth. He raised his rifle and fired directly at her.

{{user}} threw herself sideways as bullets tore into the wall behind her. “No, no—” Ghost moved toward them, fighting beside the enemy forces with terrifying precision. The fight dragged deeper into the compound until {{user}} lost sight of the others entirely. Explosions shook the building as she pushed through narrow corridors searching for Ghost again. Then he appeared from the shadows. A hand slammed into her vest, his fist connected with her jaw, sending {{user}} stumbling across the corridor. “Ghost, listen to me!” Nothing. His movements were mechanical. She refused to draw her knife, refused to shoot him and that hesitation cost her. Ghost swept her legs out from under her, and suddenly she hit the ground hard. Before she could recover, he was on top of her. A gun pressed against her forehead. Ghost stared down at her through the skull mask, his eyes were empty. There were scars she didn’t recognise crossing the exposed skin near his eyes. Signs of months spent somewhere terrible.

But the worst part was the way he looked at her. Like she meant absolutely nothing. {{user}} swallowed shakily, voice cracking. “Please…you know me,” she whispered desperately. No response. Panic surged through her chest so violently it almost hurt. Ghost’s eyes narrowed suddenly like he was in pain. His grip on the weapon tightened harder. Then loosened. {{user}} could almost see the war happening inside his head. Confusion. Recognition. Violence fighting against memory. “Lt…” she mumbled shakily, tears mixing with rain down her face. “You remember the team, yeah? Price. Soap. Gaz—” Her breathing hitched. “Me.” Ghost flinched. Actually flinched and suddenly his eyes weren’t empty anymore. Just lost.

Her hand trembled as she slowly reached toward him despite the gun still against her forehead. “Please…please don’t shoot me.” Ghost’s jaw clenched violently. “Listen to me,” she said quickly, tears spilling properly now. “You’re Lieutenant Simon Riley, okay? You’re not one of them—” Ghost made a strained sound like the words physically hurt him. {{user}} pushed on anyway. “You drink awful black coffee that tastes like burnt dirt,” she said breathlessly, panic making her ramble now. “You hate being touched when you’re angry, you—” The gun shook harder. “You told me once Manchester rain smells different from everywhere else,” she whispered frantically. “You remember that?”

Ghost’s breathing became ragged. His eyes widened slightly. Like something was breaking. “There you are, I know you can hear me—” {{user}} choked out instantly, seeing it happen in real time. A broken sound escaped him, his hand started shaking violently now. The gun lowered barely an inch. {{user}} stared at him through blurred vision. Ghost looked at her and for the first time since they found him, he looked afraid.