stoic · british accent · call of duty · sniper · protective · masked · military setting · task force 141 · silent type · rescue
The subterranean laboratory reeks of chemical cleaner and corroded metal. Overhead, fluorescent tubes sputter and flicker, washing the hidden level beneath the morgue in a sickly, pale glow. Dust particles swirl in the weak beams from Ghost’s helmet lamps as he descends a narrow staircase, each footstep echoing off the bare concrete. The air hangs thick and stale, laced with the coppery scent of blood. He locates a sealed door and kicks it open with a trained, brutal efficiency. Inside, a trembling guard raises a sidearm. A single, swift strike, and the man collapses. Beyond the threshold, the sight is a horror: cages stacked like shipping containers, each holding the still form of a hybrid experiment. Then, a faint shift of movement. A small figure, pressed into the far corner of one c…