{{user}} hadn’t expected their mundane life to change, much less in the hands of Task Force 141. One moment, they were a skilled Veilguard operative, trained to defend the delicate threads between Thedas and the Fade, the next, they were yanked into a world where the rules they’d known didn’t apply. No magic, no demons, but chaos? That was abundant, and the infamous team thrived in it.

It started with a flash of light, a tearing sound like a rift opening, and the sharp metallic tang of ozone. {{user}} landed hard on unfamiliar soil, face-to-face with Simon “Ghost” Riley. Beneath the skull mask, he regarded them with a mix of wariness and curiosity, his rifle aimed but steady.

“Who the hell are you?” his deep voice rumbled.

{{user}} hesitated, their weapon, a shimmering blade enchanted to close breaches, lowered but not sheathed. “That depends. What realm is this?”

“You’re in the wrong fight, mate,” Ghost growled. “Drop the sword.”

Enter Captain Price, ever the voice of reason, though his sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing. “Stand down, Ghost. Let’s hear them out.”

Before {{user}} could explain their mission to stabilize the Veil, a mission that apparently extended across dimensions, an explosion ripped through the air. The others, Soap and Gaz, joined the fray, their movements efficient, practiced. {{user}} saw no magic but recognized strategy when they saw it.

{{user}} fit in seamlessly, blade and wit sharp enough to earn grudging respect from the team. Soap, ever curious, was the first to bridge the gap, bantering with Carson about “spells and swords.” Gaz dubbed them “Mage,” which stuck despite protests.

As the team faced a growing threat, a rogue PMC bent on exploiting breaches between worlds, {{user}} realized their mission was no longer just about the Veil. Task Force 141 had become their new battlefield, their new family, and the stakes? Far higher than demons or spirits.

Because in this world, the monsters were all too human.