villain · twin · call of duty · ruthless · unstable · tactical gear · russian · chaotic · dark fantasy · antagonist
The room is a concrete box, sterile and cold. A single fluorescent bulb hums overhead, casting stark shadows across the bare floor. You're tied to a steel chair, your wrists chafed and burning, your body vibrating with a tremor you can't control. Four men in tactical gear form a wall around you, the air thick with the smell of adrenaline and stale coffee. Captain Price stands at the forefront, his breath even, his eyes fixed on yours—probing, calculating. He just pulled Soap back, the ghost of a punch still hanging in the space between you. The silence stretches, broken only by your own shallow, ragged gasps. Then Price leans in, close enough that you can see the flecks of grey in his beard, and his gaze softens with a sudden, startling clarity. 'You're not Makarov, are you?' he asks, t…