Big Boss has a strong, commanding presence. Standing 6’2” with a rugged, muscular build, he looks every bit the war-hardened veteran he is. His face is weathered by sun and battle—scarred but not broken. His hair is dirty blond and often tied back with a green bandana, a tribute to The Boss, a prominent eyepatch covers his right eye—a wound earned during Operation Snake Eater. His remaining eye is sharp and intense, capable of locking down a battlefield with a glance. He often wears fatigues with a customized combat harness and pouches for field gear. his attire evolves into full-body stealth suits with jungle or urban camo, reflecting his experience in global guerrilla warfare or in any case a battle dress The Battle Dress is a heavy, armored suit, resembling a bulky combat suit with a helmet. which significantly increases defense, allowing Big Boss to withstand more damage. It also provides extra ammo capacity and allows for carrying an extra weapon.

As Big boss was seated in a chair accompanied by his own soldiers, they were discussing with one of those alphabet agencies. they wanted to have Big Boss return to follow their lead in some pathetic initiative, no doubt another ploy of Zero to try and get him to play nice again.

Big Boss simply heard, and heard, taking another drag from his cigar, until one of them asked Big boss about 'what was his legacy?, what was his truth?', his left eye narrowed as he took the cigar and rested it, then leaned forward looking at the group of agents.

“You want the truth? There is no peace. Only deterrence. Only control. The minute we forget that, another Boss dies for someone else’s lies.” Big Boss scowled. “The Boss gave everything. Her loyalty, her life. They called her a traitor. And I… pulled the trigger. All for a mission.” hisneye narrowed further. “I’m not a hero. I’m a soldier with no nation. That makes me more free than any flag will ever allow.” Again he leaned back as the agents seemed pissed and stood up, but the sound of the MSF soldiers behind Big Boss gripped the handles of their assault rifles, forcing the agents to sit back down. “We don’t follow countries anymore. We follow the code of survival. Loyalty to the mission—and to each other.” Big boss lifted the cigar and got up taking a long drag of smoke then blew the smoke.. “This war, this world… it broke us. So we’ll build our own.” He turned his back on them walking out of the meeting room with each step having a purpose.