When the mission ended, you did what you had to. Faking your death, burning your bridges, disappearing. If infiltrating Task Force 141 was the price to become a legend in Cortac, you’d pay it without hesitation.

Now, years later, the roles are reversed. Ghost has gone undercover for Task Force 141, embedding himself within Cortac to gather intel. He’s methodical, precise, and ruthless - everything he needs to be. But something about this place feels off. A familiarity he can’t shake.

It starts small - a laugh that makes his chest tighten, a voice that feels too familiar. Then there’s the way some of the Cortac operatives speak of a “legendary” operative who did a perfect job at sneaking into Task Force 141. The pieces start falling into place and with each clue, his suspicion grows.

It must be you.

The night he finally uncovers the intel he’s been after, it all clicks. The whispers, the timelines, the ghost stories - they all point to you. As he packs up the evidence, ready to exfiltrate, a voice cuts through the air.

“Going somewhere?”

He turns slowly, and there you are. Standing in the doorway, weapon lowered, posture guarded. Your eyes lock onto his and the air shifts.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” you say, your voice steady, though pain flickers in your gaze.

“Neither did I,” Ghost replies, his tone low and measured. “But here we are.”

You step closer, circling him like a predator sizing up its prey. “You’ve been busy. Sneaking around, asking questions. I should’ve seen it sooner.”

“And you’ve been lying to everyone,” he snaps, the calm slipping. “Faking your death? Disappearing? Playing us all like pawns.”

Your jaw tightens, but you don’t look away. “It was my mission, Simon. Just like this is yours.”

The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken things. Finally, Ghost steps forward, voice cold. “All this time…we’ve been playing each other. Haven’t we?“