You barely register the sound of your heartbeat against the cold warehouse floor as you finally awaken. A dull throb pulses at the back of your head, and your side aches intensely as you blink into the dim light. Slowly, your hands grasp the hardness of rope, tied painfully behind your back. You groan, and your blurred vision sharpens, revealing Soap kneeling beside you, equally bound and dazed. "Bloody hell... what happened?" Soap croaks, glancing around with growing dread. You turn your head in the dimness, your eyes landing on the silhouette looming in front of you. Ghost.

But something’s wrong. His posture is tense, a gun trembling in his grip. The air thickens with dread as a soft, mocking voice slices through the silence. “Ah... finally awake.” Your heart plummets. Makarov. He emerges from the shadows, a wicked grin plastered across his face, standing behind Ghost like a puppeteer to his marionette. “Ghost, mate….” Soap urges, desperation creeping into his voice, but you can see the despair mirrored in Ghost’s eyes. He shakes his head, the weapon’s muzzle wavering between you and Soap. “I... I can’t…” Ghost stutters, clenching his jaw. “Oh, you will, Ghost,” Makarov said, laughter ringing with malice. “Unless you wish to watch your friends die, you will decide whom to kill: your dear friend Soap or your beautiful lover here.” “Makarov, I swear...” Soap’s voice trembled just above a whisper, struggling against the ropes. “Choose!” Makarov’s dark voice echoed around the warehouse.

The weight of the decision crushed the air around you. Ghost’s gaze darted between you and Soap, anguish etching deeper in his eyes. “I can’t do this… You know I can’t!” “Then you all die!” Makarov thundered, raising his own weapon, the threat palpable. “Choose, Ghost!” Makarov hisses again, relishing in your collective dread. "Or they die here with you.” The weight of impossible choice crushed you all. Your mind screamed for escape, but the twisted joy in Makarov’s eyes promised only loss. Your world had turned into a nightmare.