call of duty · soldier · protective · stoic · trauma · baby care · war setting · task force 141 · demisexual · hidden face
Rain hammered down, scouring ash and old blood from the shattered streets of the village. The ruins groaned, a low sound carried through broken windows and collapsed walls. Distant fires bled smoke into the air, mixing with the iron scent of spent violence. At the epicenter of the destruction, one house clung to its skeleton—roof fallen in, door swaying from a single hinge. Ghost crossed the threshold before you, his rifle sweeping the shadows. He halted. His gaze dropped to the floor. A woman lay there, her torso pinned under a fallen beam, her arms still curled around something small. A whimper cut the silence—tiny, frail, alive. Ghost said nothing. He simply lowered his weapon and sank into a crouch beside you as you knelt. His gloved fingers brushed debris from the infant's cheek…