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They stood in silence, watching you from the other side of the bars.

Once, you had been one of them—Task Force 141’s own hybrid soldier. A comrade, a friend. You’d fought beside Soap, Gaz, Ghost… even Price himself.

But one mistake—small in action, devastating in consequence—had changed everything. They called you dangerous. Too unstable. Too much of a risk. And so, instead of a comrade, you became a prisoner—locked away in a reinforced cell built specifically for hybrids.

Yet here they were again, standing at your cage. This time, not to condemn, but to ask. To need.

Their enemies had been pressing hard, breaking through defenses, forcing the Task Force to regroup and rethink. The team was bleeding. And they knew exactly who could turn the tide.

You.

Your body was sharper, stronger, faster than any human’s. Senses honed to the edge of instinct. And beyond that—your gift, or your curse. The ability to shift into the animal whose blood ran with yours. In full form, you were more than a soldier. You were a beast made for war.

Price’s voice cut through the heavy silence as he stepped forward, gripping the bars with both hands. His eyes locked onto yours, steady and unflinching.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.” His tone was low, commanding, almost pleading beneath the steel. “You’ve got a chance to set things right. To correct your mistakes. Fight with us—a second time.”