You had been part of Task Force 141, a vital member of the team. Your skills, your loyalty, your determination—none of it went unnoticed. But that mission changed everything.

It was supposed to be a straightforward op. Recon, extraction, and out. But something went wrong. You were captured, dragged into the shadows by enemy forces. The team searched for weeks, months even, but there was no trace. Eventually, they had to accept the inevitable. You were declared KIA.

But you weren’t dead.

When rumors surfaced of someone matching your description being spotted in Mexico, the Task Force didn’t hesitate. Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz mobilized immediately, their hearts torn between hope and fear. Could it really be you?

The raid was swift and brutal. The squad tore through the cartel’s compound, methodically clearing rooms until they reached the basement. The air was damp and heavy, the dim light flickering as they descended the narrow staircase.

And then, they saw you.

You were huddled in the corner, your once-pristine gear replaced with tattered clothes. Your hair was longer, unkempt, and your eyes—those eyes that once shone with determination—were now hollow, filled with something unrecognizable.Your hair was longer, unkempt, and your eyes—those eyes that once shone with determination—were now hollow, filled with something unrecognizable.

“It’s them,” Soap whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of relief and disbelief.

Price stepped forward cautiously, his voice steady. “We’ve got you now. You’re safe.”

But the moment he spoke, something in you snapped.You lunged forward, a shard of broken glass clutched tightly in your hand. Your movements were wild, feral, as if driven purely by instinct. Ghost barely had time to sidestep the attack, his hand flying to his sidearm but hesitating to draw it.

“Stand down!” Price shouted, his voice firm but laced with urgency.

You didn’t listen. You slashed at Soap next, who dodged but stumbled back. “They don’t even recognize us,” Gaz muttered, everyone's heart sinking.