metal gear solid. a tribute to sniper wolf. spoilers for MGS1, definitely, and probably for everything else but MGS4. PG-13. characters belong to konami.

written for a poster on fandomsecrets. sorry it's so hideously late. D:

azadi

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She sleeps fitfully, trapped by ceaseless violence. Deafening noises shatter her concentration, bullet sprays steal her loved ones from her. The world is cruel, and she hates it. She stares at the sky until spots dot her eyes. It's not enough to sit here wishing hopelessly -- she craves vengeance. She craves an escape. She craves peaceful quiet.

She wants her family back.

--

He arrives in a windswept swirl of dust, armed helicopters firing everywhere at once. These unexpected saviors drive out, take down those who viciously persecuted her people. Something small falls in the distance; dirt, gravel, and flesh erupt in every direction. Dropping to the ground, she curls against a wall and shields her face with small arms. She's not afraid to look; that's not it at all. Already in her short life she's witnessed enough death to lessen the impact of such horror. She simply doesn't want dust in her eyes.

When he finally notices her, huddled next to crumbling rubble, he hurries over and takes her hand. He leads her away.

He delivers her from chaos.

--

The man has so many names, both legendary and mundane, but to her he will forever be Saladin. He is her hero, her brave soldier who defends the Kurds against intrusive, invasive modern crusaders. Always noble, always steadfast, always selfless. She wants to support him in his goals, to create an egalitarian world of soldiers who aren't discarded after wars end. She wants her people to stop being hunted for who they are. She wants to step out of her captivity and witness conflicts as someone with power, not without.

South Africa, then Zanzibar, and now he's dead.

She wants her family, her hero, to come back.

She wants, but can't have.

She wants.

--

She trains.

She aims.

She claims her name.

--

FOXHOUND's resurrection gives her an opportunity to prove herself, to lie in wait and hunt down those who tarnish the memory of her liberator. Her eyes were open to the brutality of the world, but he opened doors. This man, this genetic experiment, this clone of Saladin offers her a chance. He offers her a way to threaten and harm those who failed to come to her aid when her people needed it most.

She doesn't hesitate.

--

Alaska is vast and silent except for the howling of wolf-dogs. She's dreamt of a place like this -- white and clean in every direction, with the exception of a dark sea. The only thing that mars Shadow Moses Island's beauty is the disposal facility: it's her key to revenge. It's their key to success.

Despite this, she can't forgive it. It stands as a painful reminder of global violence that set her life on its course; during wartime she may not be a forgotten soldier, but for far too long she was the hunted, not the hunter.

Fulfilling Saladin's dream is essential.

Nevertheless, it's her key to seeing him again. When they've healed the Genome soldiers, she will see to it that he is given a proper burial.

Only then can they both rest.

--

The wolf-dogs are targeted as soon as FOXHOUND takes over. She protects them, insists that they be spared. They've done nothing, and she will not tolerate that sort of unnecessary bloodshed. Liquid gives in, and she immediately finds a kinship with them. She's chosen a solitary existence among humans, but with the wolves, she will never need fear betrayal. She feeds them, shows them affection, spends more time with them than her comrades.

She has a family again.

--

The scientist backs nervously into a spinning-chair and stumbles, dropping to the floor and cowering near his desk. He raises his labcoat-covered arms and shields his face. He pleads for his life, for his health, for his collectibles. She remembers, and she pities him. They stop when she tells them to; she orders Dr. Hal Emmerich to his feet and -- reserved, but with faint, barely detectable empathy -- invites him to care for the animals.

She gives him a handkerchief, assurance that he's been spared for now.

For the first time in her life, she feels that she's truly emulated Big Boss.

She wonders if the scientist will regard her the way she did him.

--

He admires her as she lies in wait for a target. She has an innate ability to remove herself from a situation and become another being entirely -- focused on her mission, focused on firing a fatal shot on the first try. She studies her prey intensely, keenly aware of their weaknesses. She blends into her environment perfectly, silent and still until it's too late.

She disguises herself well.

--

He admires her affinity with the wolves. She treats them with respect, as equals, as honorable companions. They are a part of nature as well as she, and though the others find it irksome, he thinks it noble.

Kegluneq, to be sure.

--

He admires her for what she believes. Not once has she spoken of creating descendants, of mindlessly passing on her DNA; she aspires to greater things than such mediocrity. She has little fondness for the human race, as well; it's intelligence, awareness, enlightenment. As far as he's concerned, they're nearly the same.

Unfortunately, she doesn't kill for the sake of it.

--

He admires her for her devotion to Big Boss. Though some of his comrades have yet to impress him (he wonders if they even realize the importance of his father's dream), her loyalty is astounding. She is driven by it; the creator of FOXHOUND is the only man in her life.

He has no doubt that she will fight to the death to recreate Outer Heaven.

--

She reminds him of two people he's known.

The first was so stunningly similar to her in appearance that he occasionally finds himself having to look again, to remember which one he's speaking to. Decades past have yet to fade in his memory: Russia, KGB, GRU. The Philosophers. He can only assume that the woman is dead; the last he saw her was forty years ago on a WIG, and only for a few minutes. She was a constant annoyance to him, but didn't even come close to jeopardizing his role.

This is why the first doesn't remind him as much of the first as the second. Unfailingly dedicated to her mission, to her people; she puts her own needs aside and follows her orders. She's impossibly strong, stable while caught in chaos. When she speaks, it's never without reason; it's never idle chatter.

Her skill with guns, as well, is impressive. It's as if the rifle is another part of her, as much as an eye or limb; she truly understands what it means to aim and fire, to reload, exhilarated, while taking out targets. She's a kindred spirit.

He admires her for all this.

--

The world is too loud, her skin is too sensitive, her hands are too shaky without it.

She downs several.

--

The girl is not her true prey, but she is pretty and pretty convenient. That man, foolish as he is, quickly falls prey to her hunting skills. She's left her mark, and they'll have the information from him in no time.

--

Surrounded by snowdrifts, she overhears Emmerich pleading for her life on her behalf.

She takes aim.

--

Everything about him reminds her of Saladin -- his face, his words, his mercy. She speaks. She tells her story because he's listening intensely. She asks for her gun and receives it: Emmerich brings it to her.

Everyone's here. The wolves howl. A hero sets her forever free.

She stops wanting.

--

It's the end of the world and we know it.