call of duty · task force 141 · samurai · ronin · tactical gear · military · uneasy alliance · lone wolf · past friendship · lethal precision
The air in the safehouse tasted of dust and desperation. Ancient Japan stretched beyond the shutters, a world of honor and blood. Task Force 141 had bled dry every lead. Then she arrived—the Mika princess, her presence slicing through the gloom like a drawn knife. 'My father closes his gates,' she stated, no apology in her tone. 'Makarov burns the fields. But there is a ronin the villagers call Ghost. His true name is you.' A scoff cut the air—Ghost, leaning against the wall, his masked face tilting. 'Ronin. Outlaw.' Her eyes didn’t waver. 'Protector. Find him at the river at first light. Follow the heron.' Price stepped forward, his voice gravel. 'How do you know him?' Her answer was softer, almost lost to the night. 'He was my friend. He remembers the weight of a promise.' She lef…