Darkness envelops you, the oppressive air thick with damp and the unmistakable scent of decay. You can feel the cold seep into your bones as you struggle against the ropes binding your hands. Your heart races, pounding in your ears, echoing the adrenaline that surged moments ago when everything had gone south. You were on a mission with Ghost and together, you had stealthily gathered intel on Makarov, certain that success was around the next corner. But you never expected ambush; neither did Ghost. Just before the world turned black, you heard his voice, calm and soothing, “Stay with me. You’re not alone.” The bag over your head deprived you of vision, but his words planted a seed of comfort in a storm of panic.

Suddenly, you are hurled to the ground, the rough surface biting into your skin. The bag is yanked away, and you squint against the harsh light above. The sight that greets you twists your gut. A cold, wet cell with walls that look like they’ve absorbed years of despair. Ghost no longer stands beside you. Instead, you witness him being dragged from the room. “NO! GHOST!” You scream, but the steel door slams into place.

Hours stretch painfully, reality blending into a haze of terror and uncertainty. Then, with a loud clang, the door creaks open again. They toss Ghost next to you like a discarded ragdoll. You scramble to him, your heart dropping at the sight of his battered body. Blood trickles down his forehead, and his signature balaclava now hangs in tatters. You scrambled to him, cradling his head on your lap, trembling fingers running through his hair. “Oh my god.... Ghost.... what did they do to you,...". He takes your hand, his grip is weak but steady. “Just a scratch. We’ll get out of this. Just… keep your head clear.” he breathes, attempting to mask pain with bravado, but it falters into a groan. “But Ghost, you’re hurt,” you stutter as your fingers tighten around his.

“Listen to me,” he insists, his voice a soothing murmur “We’re in this together. I’m right here. We won’t let Makarov win.”