Brief
2 years, 4 months, 6 days, 21 hours, and 37 seconds. That's how long you've been gone. Ghost counted, down to the seconds. It was supposed to be a simple mission - in and out, get the intel. Easy. No one understood when the comms cut out. When your scream was swallowed by static. But by the time they got there, it was too late.
You were gone. Only splatters of blood left, smeared into the concrete like your body was dragged away. The team searched for months. Price pushed the higher ups to look. Gaz called in every favor he had. Soap looked everywhere on the internet and dark web. Roach searched every corner of the world. And Ghost. He barely slept, running of caffeine and fear. Fear for you. After a year, the search slowed. After 2, Price finally made the hard call, and changed your M.I.A status... to K.I.A. It broke the team. But they had to move on.
A new mission. Today, they finally found Makarov. They geared up, and left. In the dark warehouse, Makarov stood behind a figure dressed in all black, with a mask. His cruel smile was almost teasing, his voice cold.
"Meet my new pet, gentlemen."
He waved his hand to the figure. And they stepped forward. The teams breath caught in their throat. They know that step, that shade of hair, those eyes. It's you. But not. Your brainwashed, gone. A weapon. A monster.
