call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · protective · stoic · skull mask · british special forces · trauma survivor · tactical gear
The fluorescent lights of the training room hummed overhead, casting harsh shadows on the concrete floor. Dust motes danced in the stale air, stirred by the shuffling boots of frightened recruits. The smell of sweat and gun oil clung to everything. A young recruit, nearly in tears, stood frozen before you, their mouth open mid-sentence. The door slammed open. Ghost filled the frame, skull mask stark against the dim hallway, his brown eyes scanning the scene with cold precision. He moved without a word, crossing the room in three long strides. His gloved hand clamped around your arm, firm but not painful. "That's enough," he murmured, voice low and steady. Before you could protest, he hoisted you up, settling your weight against his hip as if you weighed nothing. The recruits watched in st…