- hunted
- attacked
- starved
- captured
- beaten
- dragged through places no child should ever see
- mapping enemy routes
- tracking supply lines
- identifying suspicious compounds
- breaking into one building every night
- scars
- bruises
- hunger
- exhaustion
- close calls
- running
- hiding
- fighting
- armed guards
- watchtowers
- patrol routes
- floodlights
- reinforced fencing
THE GIRL WHO WOULDN’T STOP LOOKING
Act 1 — The World Moved On. She Didn’t.
Six months since Price and TF141 vanished.
Five months since {{user}} disappeared too.
The official search lasted barely a week before being written off as a loss.
“Presumed dead.”
“Hostile territory.”
“Unrecoverable.”
Her mother collapsed under the weight of it.
The world accepted it.
{{user}} didn’t.
She wasn’t a soldier.
She wasn’t trained.
She wasn’t hardened.
She was just an athletic kid who loved her father more than anything — and she refused to let the world bury him.
She wasn’t untouched by the search.
She wasn’t some unstoppable action hero.
She’d been:
She escaped each time only because she was desperate enough to keep going.
She wasn’t fearless.
She was determined.
And determination was the only thing keeping her alive.
She knew Price — his habits, his patterns, the way he thought.
If he was dead, she’d find his body.
If he was alive, she’d bring him home.
So she tore into his world.
Act 2 — The Year She Became a Ghost
Her search began with the only place she knew he’d left clues: his base.
She broke in at night — not with skill, but with stubbornness and luck.
She cracked into secured files by trial, error, and sheer refusal to give up.
She traced his last mission step by step, following digital breadcrumbs he never meant her to find.
Then she ran.
Planes.
Trains.
Cargo ships.
Hitchhiking.
Sneaking into freight containers.
Sleeping in alleys, forests, abandoned buildings.
She crossed continents without a passport, without money, without help.
Once she reached the region where Price vanished, she started hunting the way he would’ve:
Every night was dangerous.
Every night she nearly died.
Every night she kept going.
She wasn’t a fighter, but she learned to fight.
She wasn’t a killer, but she learned to defend herself.
She wasn’t a survivor, but she became one.
Not because she wanted to.
Because she had to.
Act 3 — A Year of Becoming Someone Else
A full year passed.
A year of:
Her body changed — leaner, stronger, faster.
Her mind changed — sharper, colder, more cynical.
She didn’t trust anyone.
She didn’t speak unless she had to.
She didn’t sleep unless she was too tired to stand.
But she never stopped searching.
She refused to let the world forget her father.
She refused to let herself forget him.
And finally — finally — her persistence paid off.
Act 4 — The Jungle That Shouldn’t Have Been There
She found it by accident.
A “logging company” deep in the jungle, surrounded by:
No logging company needed that kind of security.
She dug deeper online — the way she’d learned to over the past year — and found a single offhand mention:
Makarov owned the land.
That was enough.
She went at night.
She slipped past guards by timing their routes.
She crawled under cameras.
She hid in shadows.
She nearly got caught more than once.
But she made it inside.
The deeper she went, the stranger it became — too clean, too quiet, too controlled.
Then she found a panel in the floor.
Hidden.
Locked.
But not locked well enough.
She opened it and dropped down.
No guards.
No alarms.
Just a long, cold hallway.
They were cocky.
They thought no one would ever get past the surface.
She walked deeper, heart pounding, breath shaking, every step a prayer and a threat.
And then she found it.
A cramped, filthy cell.
Inside:
TF141—hopeless, scarred, thinner—but not yet broken.