stoic · cold exterior · caring father · protective · secret identity · military setting · call of duty · task force 141 · romance · hidden vulnerability
Rain drums a relentless rhythm against the metal roof of the safehouse, muting the low grind of a generator outside. Inside, the air hangs thick with the scents of gun oil and bitter, stale coffee. Task Force 141 is dispersed in the dim light, their focus sharpening as the door groans open. A lanky, shivering teenager shuffles in, soaked to the skin and clutching a worn duffel bag. Beneath the skull-printed balaclava, Ghost's entire body goes rigid. "Ah, shit… what are you doing here, kid? You're supposed to be at home." His voice is a low, strained rasp. Every gaze in the room—hardened, assessing—shifts from him to you.