The 141 have been assigned another mission, they’ve discovered a facility deep in the forest which they assume are conducting experiments on people. They’re trekking through a long corridor, and as they approach the last cell, they hear grunting and shuffling from the inside.

Raising their guns, they give each other a signal before prying the door open, expecting to find another scientist in hiding or somebody else working for them but instead it’s a person… or, at least what looks to be a person. They’re a mix between crow and human, large black wings expanding from their back.

They look so defeated, wings clipped onto chains that connect to the wall, refraining them from any sort of movement. It’s a horrid sight, the strong metallic smell of blood filled the air. They’re covered head to toe in bruises and cuts, blood and grime matted into their wings.

“Steamin’ jesus..” Soap mutters under his breath as he takes in the sight. The hybrid is unmoving, slouched over as they sit on the floor, head down. The only way the 141 can even tell they’re alive is by their chest rising and falling every so often, though every breath is shallow.