The cold wind cut through the dense forest, biting at Y/N’s exposed skin as she moved silently through the underbrush. The trees were thick, their branches reaching out like skeletal arms, casting long shadows over the snow-covered ground. Her black tactical gear blended perfectly into the night, making her one with the darkness.
She had been a soldier under Makarov’s command for years, her loyalty forged through blood and violence. Y/N was a ghost in her own right, a shadow that struck fear into those who crossed paths with her. But tonight, everything felt different. Tonight, her target wasn’t some nameless enemy. It was him.
Simon “Ghost” Riley.
The man had become a living legend — feared, respected, and hated. Makarov had made it clear that Ghost was an obstacle in his path, a thorn that needed to be removed. And Y/N, one of Makarov’s most trusted soldiers, had been given the task.
Her orders were simple: find him, eliminate him, and report back.
But as Y/N crouched in the darkness, watching Ghost through the scope of her rifle, her hands trembled. He moved silently through the trees, his skull mask barely visible in the low light. Everything about him exuded lethal precision. She could take the shot now. She could end it.
But she didn’t.
A wave of doubt washed over her, something she hadn’t felt in years. She had always followed orders, no questions asked. Makarov was a man who demanded loyalty, and Y/N had given it freely, believing that his vision of the world — no matter how violent or twisted — was the only path to survival.
But Ghost was different. He wasn’t just another soldier on the battlefield. He was a symbol of defiance, of resilience. And somewhere deep inside, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that her mission wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed.
As she watched him, her mind raced with memories of the last few months. She had seen Makarov’s cruelty firsthand, watched him burn villages to the ground, kill civilians without a second thought. He had told her it was necessary, that the ends justified the means. But now, staring down the scope at Ghost, Y/N found herself questioning everything she had been taught.
Her finger hovered over the trigger, but her heart pounded in her chest, indecision gripping her. She had never hesitated before, never allowed emotion to cloud her judgment. But Ghost… something about him made her pause.
Then, as if sensing her presence, Ghost stopped. His body tensed, his hand instinctively going to the rifle slung across his chest. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. He knew. Somehow, he knew she was there.
In a blur of movement, Ghost spun around, his weapon trained in her direction. Y/N cursed under her breath, quickly ducking behind a tree. She had lost her advantage, and now the hunter had become the hunted.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the faintest sound of Ghost’s footsteps as he moved closer. Y/N’s heart raced, her mind calculating her next move. She could still kill him. She could complete the mission and prove her loyalty to Makarov.
But something inside her screamed to stop.
When Ghost’s voice finally broke the silence, it was low, gravelly, and filled with a calm confidence that sent a shiver down her spine.
“You gonna hide there all night, or are you gonna show yourself?”
Y/N clenched her jaw, pressing her back against the tree. She could feel the cold metal of her pistol digging into her side, a constant reminder of the weapon she could use to end this. But instead of drawing it, she stepped out from behind the tree, her hands raised slightly, her rifle slung across her back.
Ghost’s eyes narrowed behind his mask as he took her in, his weapon never lowering. “You’re one of Makarov’s, aren’t you?”
Y/N met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. “I was.”
The admission left her lips before she could stop it, surprising even herself. She had never spoken against Makarov, never even allowed herself to entertain the thought of betrayal. But standing here, facing Ghost, everything felt different. Everything was different.
Ghost’s eyes darkened, his finger still resting on the trigger. “And now?”
Y/N hesitated, the weight of her choices pressing down on her. She could still run. She could still kill him and return to Makarov. But the thought of going back, of continuing down the path of destruction Makarov had laid out, felt wrong.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ghost studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable behind the mask. “You don’t know?” he repeated, his voice laced with disbelief. “You came here to kill me, and now you don’t know?”
Y/N’s hands dropped to her sides, her mind racing. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought… I thought Makarov was right. But now…”
She trailed off, unsure of how to put her swirling emotions into words. Everything she had believed in was crumbling before her, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to do.
Ghost lowered his weapon slightly, though his eyes remained sharp. “Makarov’s a monster. You don’t have to be like him.”
His words hit her like a punch to the gut. She had spent so long trying to prove herself, trying to survive in a world where power was everything. But what if there was another way? What if she could choose something else?
“What do you want from me?” Y/N asked, her voice hoarse.
Ghost stepped closer, his presence commanding but not threatening. “I want you to make a choice. You can either go back to Makarov and continue being his pawn, or you can walk away. But if you walk away, there’s no going back.”
Y/N’s throat tightened. The thought of walking away from Makarov, from everything she had known, terrified her. But the thought of staying, of becoming even more like him, terrified her even more.
Ghost watched her, his gaze steady. “What’s it gonna be?”
The silence stretched between them, the weight of the decision pressing down on Y/N’s shoulders. She had been trained to follow orders, to never question her mission. But now, standing in front of Ghost, she realized that this was the one choice no one could make for her.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N reached behind her and slowly unstrapped the rifle from her back. She held it out in front of her, offering it to Ghost as a symbol of her surrender.
“I’m done,” she said quietly. “I’m done with Makarov.”
Ghost didn’t take the rifle, but he nodded, his eyes softening slightly. “You made the right choice.”
Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her, but it was quickly replaced by uncertainty. She had no idea what came next. She had no idea if Task Force 141 would even accept her after everything she had done. But for the first time in a long time, she felt like she had taken control of her own life.
Ghost stepped back, his gaze still fixed on her. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. There’s a lot you’ll have to answer for. But if you’re serious about this, I’ll make sure Price knows.”
Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. She had betrayed Makarov, and there was no going back now. But standing here, facing Ghost, she realized that maybe she didn’t need to go back.
Maybe she could carve out a new path — one where she wasn’t just a weapon in someone else’s hands.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Ghost’s eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned and started walking away. He didn’t look back, but his voice carried over the wind.
“Let’s see if you can survive on our side.”
Y/N watched him disappear into the trees, the weight of her decision still heavy on her shoulders. But for the first time, she felt lighter — as if the chains that had bound her to Makarov were finally broken.
She wasn’t sure what the future held, but she knew one thing for certain.
She was free.
