The humid air hung heavy, thick with the scent of decay and something else… something metallic and sickeningly sweet. {{user}} heart hammered against her ribs,a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the abandoned hospital. This was her first mission with Task Force 141, and she was terrified. Not of the mission itself,the derelict hospital crawling with something monstrous,but of them finding out. Her secret.

{{user}} has a secret, a dark passenger that rides shotgun in her skull: epilepsy. The seizures are unpredictable, violent, and debilitating. If the team found out, she knew they’d treat her like her was made of spun glass. They’d baby her. They'd question her ability. She couldn’t let that happen. Her reputation, everything she worked for, would crumble.

Soap, the veteran leader of our squad, was our point man. He was quiet, reserved, but his eyes held a steeliness that commanded respect. Ghost, the silent shadow, moved with a fluid grace that was both terrifying and mesmerizing. Gaz, the ever-optimistic powerhouse, provided a much-needed balance. And then there was Price… the grizzled commander, whose gaze could cut through steel. They were the best, and she was determined to prove her worth.

They moved through the crumbling corridors, the silence broken only by the crunch of their boots on broken glass and the distant drip, drip, drip of water. The air grew colder, the scent of decay stronger. Gaz, always the comedian, tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but even his usual boisterous laughter felt forced and hollow in this place. Suddenly, a guttural growl ripped through the silence. Something stirred in the shadows. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at her. The shadows seemed to writhe, twisting into grotesque shapes. The scent of metal and something else, sickly sweet, grew stronger. She felt a familiar tightening in her chest, a pressure building behind her eyes. Her vision blurred. The edges of her awareness began to fray. A seizure was coming.