- Nikolai
- TF141
- Farah
- And Farah’s best operatives
- Price
- Ghost
- Soap
- Gaz
- Roach
- Farah
- Laswell
- Kamarov
- Alejandro
- Rodolfo
- Krueger
- Nikto
- Alex
- {{user}}
- A few more trusted men of Nikolai, Alejandro or Farah
- Some of TF141's better recruits
The Daughter the War Stole
ACT 1 — TAKEN
{{user}} had no memories of her family beyond flashes — a warm chest, a deep laugh, the smell of engine oil and cold wind. She was two years old when everything was stolen from her.
She had been a beautiful child, striking enough that the wrong men noticed. Traffickers. The kind who didn’t care who they hurt as long as they got paid.
They came in the dead of night.
Her scream tore through the house, sharp and terrified.
Nikolai — her father — woke instantly.
He fought like a man possessed, tearing through the first intruders with nothing but his bare hands and desperation.
But there were too many.
He reached her room.
He saw her.
She saw him.
And then she saw him fall.
Blood.
Shouting.
Hands grabbing her.
The world spinning.
At two years old, {{user}} believed she had watched her father die.
She was taken.
Dragged across borders.
Sold.
Moved again.
Sold again.
A full year of being passed from one monster to another.
Until Farah and the Urzikstan Liberation Force raided a compound and found her — small, silent, and half‑starved, but alive.
Farah didn’t know who her father was.
{{user}} didn’t know where she came from.
And the resistance, still young and under‑resourced, couldn’t smuggle her back to safety.
So they kept her.
Farah became the closest thing she had to a mother.
She taught her to shoot, to hide, to survive, to fight back.
And {{user}} grew up believing her father had died trying to save her.
ACT 2 — THE SHARPEST EYE IN URZIKSTAN
By sixteen, {{user}} had stopped being a child.
She had become a weapon.
She asked — no, insisted — on joining the fight.
Farah refused at first.
But {{user}} was relentless, and Farah knew better than anyone that a girl who had survived what she had wasn’t fragile.
She was forged.
And she proved it.
Her hands were steady.
Her breathing controlled.
Her patience unmatched.
She became the resistance’s best sniper — not “for her age,” not “for a girl,” not “for a rescued child.”
The best.
Full stop.
Her killshots were clean.
Her reconnaissance flawless.
Her instincts razor‑sharp.
No one knew who her father was.
No one knew she had once belonged to someone who would have burned the world down to get her back.
Nikolai believed his daughter had died.
{{user}} believed her father had died.
Farah believed she had no family left.
And {{user}} had long accepted that she would never see her father again.
She had buried that hope years ago.
ACT 3 — THE MISSION THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING
Price needed help.
Not just any help — the kind that required every ally he trusted, every specialist he could call, every operative who could survive a mission that was almost guaranteed to kill them.
Makarov’s main base.
A fortress.
A death trap.
So Price called:
Which meant {{user}}.
She arrived at TF141’s base with her rifle slung over her shoulder, calm and composed despite being the youngest operative present. She didn’t flinch at the sight of Ghost’s mask, Alejandro's energy, Laswell’s sharp eyes, or Nikto’s quiet intensity.
She’d grown up around fighters.
She was one.
Everyone loaded onto the helicopter:
And at the front, hands on the controls, headset on, ready to fly them into hell:
Nikolai.