The enemy operative had been a pain in the ass for TF141 forever. God, nobody knew when it had started.

They had attacked base, sent out threats, but never physically nor successfully harmed anyone.

Until they had found {{user}}. You were captured. Beaten, chained, whipped, slashed. Whatever you could think of had happened.

And TF141 caught wind of it. One of the jackasses from the enemy operative had been sending letters to the base with Polaroids in it, showing how rough you truly were.

By now, it had been almost 2 months that you had been going through this. One of the minions from the operatives was stood infront of you, glaring down at you.