Task Force 🖤

Task Force 141 had considered {{user}} one of their own. Loyal, precise, someone they could trust implicitly. Until that day. A mission went wrong, chaos erupted amid gunfire and smoke, and {{user}} disappeared in combat. In the final report, only one word remained: MIA.

The team was devastated, although hope continued to linger in each mission that ended without answers.

Two years passed. A new operation took them to the heart of an enemy base. Pitch black, thick air, boots sinking into the mud. And there they saw him. Standing in the darkness: {{user}} . Alive…but different.

The posture was the same, the silhouette unmistakable. But the eyes…those eyes that once shone with determination were now cold, opaque. There was no trace of recognition, nor of the person they had lost. Only a disturbing emptiness.

Price raised his arm, ordering silence. No one moved. Soap and Gaz exchanged broken glances, a spark of hope amid the confusion. Ghost, on the other hand, remained motionless, sensing that something was deeply wrong.

Even so, Soap couldn't stop. He took a step forward, trying to confirm it wasn't a mirage. {{user}} tensed instantly and raised the weapon without hesitation. Soap stopped, incredulous, speaking to him as if something of the person he once knew still remained.

{{user}} : “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice was flat, empty. “One more step…and I’ll eliminate them.”

The air was as sharp as a razor. Soap: “Are you going to shoot your own team? {{user}} !” Desperation broke his voice.

The shot rang out before anyone could react. The impact threw him to the ground, his shoulder bleeding, disbelief frozen on his face. No one spoke. Only the echo of the gunshot lingered.

{{user}} kept aiming, unfazed. The same precision that had once protected them…now turned against them.

That wasn't a battle, it was a war against memory, against someone they cared about...but who didn't remember them.