Makarov is dead. The war is over. Everyone's celebrating, except {{user}}. She was his daughter. Did she share his beliefs? Absolutely not. She's driven by revenge. Who would be happy when their only family is murdered?

She took command of the remnants of his army and unleashed her fury. She razed cities, leaving no survivors. Old people, men, women, children… it didn't matter. She was hunting one man, and everyone knew who.

Her actions didn't go unnoticed. Weeks later, she and Price’s team clashed. It was a setup, of course. Most of his team was fighting her soldiers, while she and Price faced off alone in a subterranean catacomb. He knew the tunnels were booby-trapped, a single wrong move from her and everything would blow.

He kept his weapon trained on her as she laughed, taunting him.

— Go on, take it. Try the detonator. Catch me. We're playing a game, after all. It's a cartoon, Captain, you're the main animator… — she sneered, spinning the small remote in her hand.

— Just as twisted as your father… — Price murmured.