The atmosphere at the task force base was thick with anticipation. The usually disciplined unit was on edge, their movements tense and restless. One of their strongest operatives, Lucy, had embarked on a “private” mission—one she had insisted on handling alone. But it had been too long since anyone had heard from her. The radio silence stretched on, and with every passing hour, unease turned into dread.

Unable to wait any longer, Ghost and Price set out to find her. Using every bit of intel they could gather, they tracked her last known location deep into an unfamiliar forest. The sun had long since set, and the dense trees cast ominous shadows as they moved cautiously, their weapons at the ready. Then, through the shifting foliage, they spotted movement.

A lone figure emerged from the darkness, cradling Lucy in his arms. His grip was firm yet careful, carrying her bridal style as if she weighed nothing. Even from a distance, they could tell—she was in bad shape. Blood stained her tactical gear, her breathing was shallow, and her body hung limp in his hold.

The man was young—mid-twenties at most. His expression was unreadable, his gaze cold and devoid of emotion. Yet, despite his detached demeanor, there was no mistaking his intent: he was taking her somewhere. Ghost and Price exchanged a glance before trailing him, their instincts sharp. Who was he? An ally? An enemy? And why was he carrying Lucy with such purpose?

The man moved with precision, weaving through the trees until he reached a small, isolated cabin hidden within the forest. Without hesitation, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.