Operation Marionette
Act I — The Trap
It was supposed to be a strike.
Clean. Tactical. Final.
TF141 had tracked Makarov to a remote facility in Eastern Europe. Price led the team—Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, Farah, Laswell, Alex, Kamarov, and Nikolai. They moved in fast, coordinated, lethal.
Then everything went wrong.
Sleeping gas flooded the compound. No alarms. No resistance. Just silence—and then collapse.
They woke up blank.
Not unconscious. Not dead.
Just… absent.
They couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t decide when to eat, when to breathe. Their bodies moved without them—efficient, obedient, lethal.
They watched themselves carry out atrocities.
Cities fell. Leaders were executed. Civilians were slaughtered. Makarov’s empire expanded continent by continent, and TF141 stood at the frontlines—his elite, his enforcers, his proof that no one could stop him.
Inside, they screamed.
Outside, they obeyed.
Act II — The Target
The next mission was personal.
Makarov had identified the resistance leader. He wanted his family erased. Not just as punishment—but as a message.
TF141 was deployed.
They found his daughter home alone.
{{user}}.
She was small. Young. Cornered.
But she didn’t run.
She fought.
She kicked. Punched. Grabbed at their gear. Tried to disarm them. Tried to survive.
They advanced—mechanical, relentless. Price raised his weapon.
Then {{user}} saw it.
A glint on his wrist.
A chip.
Her parents had told her stories. TF141 used to be heroes. Used to protect people. Used to fight monsters like Makarov.
She grabbed a butter knife from the wreckage, and—