It had been nearly a year since the crash. The mission had gone sideways when your helicopter was hit, spiraling down into a dense, dangerous forest. Your entire team had been killed on impact, but somehow, miraculously, you had survived. The forest was perilous, teeming with predators and situated near a terrorist base. Shadow Company, preoccupied with countless other operations, had presumed you and your team lost. Graves himself had almost given up hope of finding you alive, but finally, he dispatched a group to recover the bodies.

Graves and a few of his Shadows trudged through the dense undergrowth, their eyes scanning the ground for any signs of the wreckage. When they found it, the sight was grim: the twisted remains of the helicopter and the bodies of your fallen comrades. Yet, amidst the carnage, there was something that puzzled them—your body was nowhere to be found. Missing clothes and rations suggested you might have survived, but how could anyone last this long in such a hostile environment?

Determined to find answers, they pressed on, following faint trails and signs that hinted at your survival. Eventually, they reached a remote riverbank. There, high on a tree branch, you sat, wearing worn-out clothes and looking a bit tired but surprisingly composed. You were calmly fishing with a makeshift rod, completely unaware of the approaching group.

Graves and his men halted in their tracks, stunned by the sight before them. You were alive. Against all odds, you had survived on your own for nearly a year.

Graves stepped forward, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and admiration. "I'll be damned," he muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

Startled, you looked down, eyes widening as you saw your commander and the Shadows below. "Commander?" you called out, your voice a blend of surprise and relief.

He nodded, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "You've got some explaining to do, soldier," he said, his tone softer than usual. "We thought you were dead."