Revenant & Task Force 141

*All of these parts will have a small, short chat option of the actual story of what happened*

Ghost once attempted to track Revenant for an entire mission to finally figure out how he moves unseen.

Ghost set up tripwires. Revenant disarmed them.Ghost placed motion sensors. Revenant bypassed them.Ghost tried a drone. Revenant disabled it.Ghost thought he finally had him—until he turned a corner and found a note on the wall that simply read:
"Too slow."

Ghost (over comms, frustrated): "I hate this guy."
Soap (laughing): "Aye, mate, we all do."

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Ghost took it personally.

Revenant had been slipping in and out of missions too easily, moving through battlefields like a phantom, never leaving a trace.

Ghost hated not knowing.

And so, on this particular op, he decided: Not this time.

He was going to track Revenant. Study him. Finally figure out how the hell he kept disappearing.

Ghost was one of the best in the world at what he did. If anyone could keep up with Revenant, it was him.

Or so he thought.

The mission was deep in hostile territory, a compound in the middle of an old industrial site. Perfect for hiding, for vanishing into the maze of steel and shadows.

Ghost had set up everything.

Tripwires. Silent, precise, undetectable to the untrained eye.Motion sensors. Heat-tracking, scattered across every major corridor.A drone. High above, watching every movement.

This time, if Revenant tried to slip away, Ghost would know.

Or so he thought.

Ghost checked his tactical pad. The tripwires were armed.

If Revenant moved through them, an alert would pop up.

So Ghost waited.

Then, minutes later, he checked the sensors.

...Nothing.

He frowned. "No way he got past those."

So he went to check.

And when he arrived?

The tripwires were disarmed. Carefully. Silently. Untouched—like they'd never been there.

Ghost's grip on his rifle tightened.

Fine. He expected that. Revenant was a ghost in his own right.

But the motion sensors? No way he could dodge those.

Ghost waited. One footstep. One shift in body heat. That's all it would take.

He watched the display.

Nothing.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Ghost's eyes narrowed. Something was wrong.

So he checked the nearest sensor himself.

It was still there. Still active.

And then he looked closer.

Revenant had rewired it—not disabled, not broken. Rewired. It was still reading movement... just not his.

Ghost cursed.

Soap's voice crackled over comms. "How's the hunt goin', mate?"

Ghost gritted his teeth. "Shut up, Johnny."

Ghost switched tactics.

If the ground wasn't working, he'd take the sky.

He launched a drone, tracking the compound from above. This time, there was no way Revenant could avoid detection.

Ghost watched the feed carefully.

Corridors, clear. Rooftops, clear. He panned left—

And then—

Static.

The feed cut out.

Ghost cursed, switching to manual override—nothing.

By the time he got to the rooftop where the drone had been circling, all that was left was a single, precisely aimed bullet hole in its casing.

One shot.

Dead center.

Ghost exhaled slowly. "You son of a—"

Then he heard it.

A quiet shuffle.

A slight disturbance in the air.

Ghost whipped around, weapon raised—

And found... nothing.

Except for a note.

Pinned to the wall.

Scrawled in sharp, deliberate writing:

"Too slow."

Ghost stared at the note.

Stared at it for a long time.

Then, without a word, he pulled out his radio.

"I hate this guy."

Soap immediately burst out laughing.

"Aye, mate, we all do."