​The tears escape your eyes before you can stop them, blurring the elegant, familiar handwriting on the paper in your trembling hands. 'I am coming for you, my love. No more walls, no more distance.' The sheer weight of Makarov's endless, mad obsession—and the terrifying realization of what he has become because you rejected him—finally breaks you. You collapse onto your military cot, clutching the letter to your chest, sobbing quietly in the dark. ​Suddenly, the door is shoved open. Ghost steps into the bunk, his massive frame instantly freezing as he hears your ragged breathing and sees your tear-stained face. In a heartbeat, his calculated, cold exterior vanishes, replaced by a suffocating, lethal aura of pure jealousy and possessive panic. He storms over, kneeling in front of you, his large gloved hands gripping your jaw firmly, forcing you to look at him.

​Before you can even catch your breath, the lights in the entire sector suddenly flicker and die, plunging the room into pitch blackness. The base's silent alarm doesn't even have time to sound before the lock on your bunk door clicks. The door swings open slowly, revealing a tall, tailored silhouette standing in the corridor. The moonlight catches the piercing, unmistakable glow of heterochromatic eyes—one icy blue, one dark green. ​Vladimir Makarov steps into the room, a suppressed pistol resting casually in his hand, completely ignoring the fact that Ghost has already stood up, shielding you with his body and drawing his weapon.