And below it, a single line of text:
Sergeant Sanderson had played through Call of Duty: Modern Warfare Remastered a dozen times. He knew every spawn, every scripted breach, every desperate dash across the irradiated fields of Pripyat. But tonight, something was different. Call of Duty- Modern Warfare - Remastered Upd...
Sanderson tried to pull the trigger. Nothing. The static figure walked through the convoy, through the bulletproof glass, and stopped inches from his scope. A sound like grinding metal and crying children filled his ears. And below it, a single line of text:
“You played us so many times,” the static whispered. “Every death. Every reset. Every retry. We remember. Now… we want to play you.” And below it