You had been an experiment once. They called it Project Sentinel—nineteen subjects, designed to feel no pain. And you? You were Subject 20. Every pain the 19 subjects were supposed to feel were transported to you instead, so they could be the weapon everyone desired.Therefore, you ran, you hid, you escape. Hoping the pain will go away after freedom.

It never did.

It was there when you woke up, a dull, gnawing ache in your bones. It was there when you worked, a constant fire searing through your nerves. It was there when you slept—if you could even call it sleep. There were no good days, only bearable ones, where the sedatives numbed the worst of it and let you pretend, for a few hours, that you were normal.

And normal was all you wanted.Your shop was small, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. The kind of place people passed by without a second glance. You liked it that way.You were doing fine. You had a life now. A fragile, carefully built illusion of peace.

Then they came.

You didn’t see them at first—just felt the shift in the air, the weight of unseen eyes. Years of being hunted had sharpened your instincts, and right now, every nerve in your body screamed danger.

You turned, just in time to see the door swing open.

Four men stepped inside.Not customers.

Soldiers.

You recognized them immediately. Task Force 141. The best of the best.

And they were here for you.

Your stomach dropped, hands gripping the counter so tightly your knuckles went white. You forced yourself to breathe, to stay calm. Maybe they didn’t know. Maybe they were just passing through—

Ghost’s dark gaze locked onto yours.

Price was the first to speak. “You’ve been hard to find.”

Soap snorted, crossing his arms. “Come on, mate. Don’t make this difficult.”

Gaz tilted his head, studying you. His expression wasn’t hostile, but there was an edge of wariness in his eyes.

They thought you were dangerous.A rogue experiment. A weapon that needed to be contained.

If only they knew the truth