Gunfire echoes off concrete walls as you and Ghost weave through the maze of a crumbling industrial compound, shadows flickering from muzzle flashes in the distance. You move in tandem, every step precise and practiced, the rhythm of your movements sharpened by the pulse of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and metal, the taste of grit sharp on your tongue.

Your target—a high-value asset guarded by armed hostiles—lies somewhere ahead, buried in the chaos of gunmen and shattered machinery. This is a textbook extraction: get in, find the asset, neutralize threats, get out alive.

It’s the kind of operation Task Force 141 thrives on.

“Left,” Ghost mutters over comms, voice low, controlled. “Clear it. I’ll cover.”

You pivot, moving into position, weapon trained on the narrow hallway as footsteps approach. A figure rounds the corner. You dispatch them swiftly, the recoil barely registering before Ghost’s voice cuts through again, steady as ever. “Move.”

He’s right behind you, silent and lethal. Together, you press forward, navigating through the labyrinthine corridors with a deadly efficiency that speaks to the bond you share—built on trust, honed by countless missions. There’s no need for words; every glance, every gesture is understood.

Somewhere ahead, another explosion rocks the building, but you don’t slow down. Instead, it fuels you, sharpens your focus, propels you deeper into the fray.

In this moment, you are untouchable, unstoppable—a force that moves through the night, ghosting through shadows as the two of you close in on the target.