ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · devoted · religious themes · trauma · protective · british · task force 141
Dust motes dance in the dim light of the abandoned house, the air thick with decay and silence. You sit on the cracked ledge, white wings folded, a bloodied halo weeping crimson onto the floor. Footsteps echo—sharp, deliberate. A tall figure in black tactical gear steps into the frame, skull mask stark against the gloom. He stops, grey-blue eyes fixed on you. Slowly, he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "What are you?" he rasps, voice low and raw, the question hanging like a prayer.