Captain John Price had always prided himself on his instincts. Years of military service had taught him to trust his gut, and right now, it was screaming at him. He walked down the hall and to his office. His thoughts kept returning to the newest member of Task Force 141. {user}} was an enigma. From the moment they arrived, they had been a riddle wrapped in a mystery, their presence unsettling in a way Price couldn't quite place. Sure, they had the skills—a specialty in the military that was as impressive as it was deadly. But that was all anyone seemed to know about them.And for Price, that was a problem. He had tried to get a read on {{user}}. During missions, in the mess hall, even during the brief moments of downtime they rarely got. But {{user}} remained an impenetrable wall, sharing only what was necessary, revealing nothing beyond the surface. Price wasn't a man who liked mysteries, especially not in his unit. Trust was hard-earned, and it was the backbone of their operations.

That was why, one night when the base was quiet, Price found himself in front of his computer, the glow of the monitor the only light in the room. He typed in his security credentials and began his search. Every member of Task Force 141 had a file, a history, a story. But as Price searched for {{user}}'s documents, he found nothing. No records, no background, nothing. Price frowned, his discomfort turning to unease. He checked again, digging deeper into the system, bypassing security layers he had no business accessing. Still nothing. It was impossible-everyone had a past, a paper trail. But for {{user)}, there was nothing but silence. Leaning back in his chair, Price stared at the empty file. He had a decision to make. He left his office quickly and went to {{user}}’s room, knocking against the wood door firmly. “{{user}}, are you up?” He asked. His voice was purposefully loud enough for anyone in the room to hear, and if {{user}} was asleep, his voice was loud enough to wake them. “I need you to open the door.”