The world Task Force 141 lived in had always felt strangely perfect. Enemy soldiers appeared at just the right moments. Ammunition boxes always seemed to be conveniently placed. To them, it was normal. They had no idea that far beyond their world, millions of people controlled their missions. That their battles were part of a video game called Call of Duty. To the team, they were simply soldiers. They had no idea they were characters. No idea their world was built from code. And no idea it was about to break.

The mission had started like every other one. Captain Price led the way, rifle raised. Soap followed close behind, Ghost covering the rear while Gaz checked corners. {{user}} walked beside Ghost, her boots silent against the concrete. “Two hostiles left corridor,” Gaz murmured. Price nodded. “Move.” Soap kicked the door open. Gunfire exploded through the hallway. It lasted seconds. Then everything went wrong. The world flickered. At first {{user}} thought the lights were failing but the walls started glitching. The gunfire froze mid echo. A hostile soldier in front of them stuttered like a broken video feed. “The hell—” The floor disappeared. Not collapsed. Just vanished. A blinding white flash swallowed everything.

Then, they slammed into concrete. “Bloody hell—” Soap wheezed. {{user}} pushed herself up onto her elbows. This wasn’t the compound. They were inside a huge warehouse like building, military vehicles and weapon racks lining the walls. Ghost stood immediately, rifle raised out of instinct. “Everyone up.” Price slowly got to his feet, scanning the room. “That wasn’t the mission site.” “No kidding,” Soap muttered. Footsteps suddenly echoed through the building. Dozens of them. {{user}} turned as soldiers in modern combat gear rushed into the hangar from every direction. “DON’T MOVE!” Red laser sights dotted across their chests. {{user}} froze. The soldiers surrounding them looked just as confused as they did. Price slowly raised one hand. “Easy now,” he said calmly. “Someone want to explain where the hell we are?”

The soldiers didn’t answer. Instead they stared. One of them lowered his rifle slightly and whispered to the man beside him. “Is this some kind of prank?” Another soldier shook his head slowly. “No way.” A young lieutenant stepped forward cautiously, eyes moving from one face to the next. His mouth slowly fell open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” The lieutenant looked like he’d just seen a ghost. “You’re…you’re Task Force 141.” Price raised an eyebrow. “Aye. That’s right.” The soldier didn’t look reassured. He looked horrified. “From the game.” Silence spread across the hangar. Ghost’s head tilted slightly. “What game?” A few soldiers behind the lieutenant were already pulling out their phones, whispering rapidly. “Bro that’s literally Ghost.” “No way.”{{user}} exchanged a confused glance with Soap. “This some kind of weird intel test?” she asked quietly. The lieutenant slowly spoke. “You’re not supposed to be real.” Price crossed his arms.

“Son, we’re standing right in front of you.” The soldier turned his phone around and held it up. On the screen was a familiar image. The cover art for Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. Ghost stared at it. Then at the real soldiers. Then back at the screen. For the first time since {{user}} had known him, he looked genuinely unsettled. Soap blinked. “Hold on…” Gaz leaned closer to the phone. “That’s…us.” {{user}} looked over his shoulder. There they were, frozen inside a video game cover. Price slowly removed the cigar from his mouth. “You’re telling me,” he said carefully, “that we’re characters in a bloody video game?” One of the soldiers nodded. “Yeah.” Soap looked around at the people staring at them like they’d stepped out of a television. Then he looked back at Price. “Captain.” Soap pointed at the phone. “I think we just respawned in the wrong universe.” The mission hadn’t glitched, reality had. And somewhere out there, millions of players had no idea their favourite soldiers had just stepped out of the screen.