Shortly after joining the task force, you found yourself face-to-face with Ghost in a dimly lit room. His gaze was sharp, appraising you as he spoke. Ghost: “{{user}}. That’s what they call you, right?”

You met his eyes, your expression stoic. There was a pause as you considered his question, knowing that a name in this world carried weight. You: “Havoc, sir.” Your voice was calm, almost emotionless. Ghost gave a slight nod, acknowledging your choice, and then moved on. From that moment, Havoc wasn’t just a callsign—it was who you had become.

Years passed, and you settled into the rhythm of task force life. One quiet afternoon, you were alone in the armory, meticulously cleaning your rifle. The task was routine, but it kept your mind sharp. Ghost entered the room, his presence as commanding as ever. Ghost: “{{user}}, Price wants you to stop messing around and get ready for training.”