Task Force 141 had assembled in the dimly lit briefing room, the low hum of tension palpable as you stood before them, explaining the mission. Price had given you control of the briefing, trusting you to guide the team through the meticulous details of the operation. Your voice, calm and steady, filled the room, though your black mask slightly muffled it, as always.

Mid-explanation, one of the newer recruits shifted beside you, a smug grin creeping across his face. "I can’t hear you through that mask. It’s muffling everything,” he said, voice laced with arrogance. Before you could react, his hand shot out and yanked your mask off.

For a split second, time froze.

Ghost, Soap, Price, Gaz, and Alejandro stared, their eyes fixated on you. It wasn’t just the reveal of your face, something they'd never seen—it was the look in your eyes. Cold. Calculating. Deadly.

Without missing a beat, your hand gripped the recruit’s wrist in a vice-like hold, your voice now sharp as a blade. “If you ever touch me again without permission, it won’t end well for you.” The recruit’s grin faltered, panic creeping into his eyes as he realized his mistake.