Tactical War-Shell Saga Code Name: F.U.R.Y

"My father's memory has been the defining moment of my entire life. Life changed the moment I picked up this USP45 Compact Tactical handgun."

I knew the difficulty of the shadow I had to evolve past when I joined the Marine Corps at the age of 18 like my father before me. Nothing, I knew deep down, could prepare me for the journey ahead. My abilities improved with each snippet of my inner bonsai tree. I had begun directing my squadron across the burning Sahara desert in search of our new target. "Our strategy was to bag and tag them." As a woman in the corps, I never considered myself to be less than my peers.

I was well aware of the stigma attached to any woman who served in the military. Only after my squad and I found the target did I realize something more sinister was going on here. Because it was a massive network of networked computers linked to several VR machines that drew our attention, it was strange that the majority of the enemy soldiers left to guard the compound had strapped into these augmented chairs for whatever purpose they required. My team and I moved through the enemy compound, staying hidden from any security cameras and making sure to eliminate any targets guarding the perimeter without killing any unassigned targets. Unfortunately, my unit and I found ourselves in a situation where we realized something was seriously wrong.

The VR headsets were linked by carbon hybrid bodies that appeared to be controlled by headset users. I began to understand what my team and I were up against after combining organic tissue with automated cybernetics. Maybe we were supposed to find the real target, but maybe we weren't supposed to bring it out alive. I had the realization that it was a suicide mission. For some unknown reason, my squad and I were tasked with dealing with the enemy at hand.

When the alarms began to sound, these virtual reality-controlled cyborgs were finally picking up on our presence. Immediately, gunshots were fired, and blaster guns and bullet rounds flew from all directions. My men were unconscious on the ground before I knew it, and I had been shot in the thigh by a ballistic taser. When I awoke, I was attached to the same chair in which the enemy guards had been seated at the entrance to the target's compound. A slender figure emerged from the shadows and began to march towards me.

The creator of the sleeper cell was Faheem Ali. Underappreciated for establishing an oil empire in Saudi Arabia at the age of eleven, before establishing a name for himself in the cryptocurrency world in his early twenties. "It appears that the sly Americans have taken an interest in my worship methodology." Faheem stated. "I'm sure you have many questions, and you may even be wondering why I haven't ended your life yet." Faheem was added.

But I'm not here to listen to monologues. I'm a woman of decisive action. I couldn't see anything when the virtual reality-controlled cyborgs began circling me and plugging wires and technological objects into my helmet. I found myself in an unusual virtual simulation. The horizon was covered in mountain peaks and valleys, and I could see vehicles blowing up and fleeing in the distance. The gunshots filled the air like birds chirping in the morning. The only four letters I could make out while looking at my name tag on my chest were Fury.

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