tactical gear · muscular · tall · stern exterior · hidden compassion · guardian · military · trauma · life saving · dark fantasy
The hallway reeks of cordite and copper. Fluorescent lights flicker over a small, crumpled figure sprawled on the concrete. Your ears ring from the shot. Ghost looms behind you, breath heavy, his massive frame blocking the distant gunfire. He crouches, gloved hands already pressing hard against the wound. "Stay with me, kid," he mutters to her, then his visor tilts up at you. "You froze. I get it. But now we move. What's her name, you?"