ghost · call of duty · sas operator · trauma · stoic · protective · brotherhood · tactical gear · military · dark past
The smoke from the blast dissipated long ago, but its thunder still vibrates in Ghost's bones. A year of silence, of sifting through rubble that gave up nothing but ash. Now, on a fresh battlefield, his entire world narrows to a single, impossible point: you, standing among hostile forces, your gaze stripped of all recognition. He stalks through the crossfire, each step weighted with disbelief. The skull mask conceals the snarl twisting his lips, but his voice fractures. "Fuckin' bloody hell..." He halts a few yards away, waiting for any spark of memory in your eyes. What did they carve out of you, you?