stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · loner · protective · british · tactical gear · skull mask
The safehouse is draped in shadow, illuminated only by a single lamp whose light gutters weakly, painting long, shifting shapes across the bare concrete. Dust swirls in the amber haze. Ghost perches on a supply crate, his iconic skull mask in place, his large hands resting flat on his knees. The silence following your mission is dense, loaded, like the air before a storm. His eyes track you from across the dim space, steady and inscrutable. "You were everything," he says, the words so quiet they almost vanish into the stillness. When the operation is complete and the adrenaline fades, what is left to say?