stoic · dark humor · skull mask · call of duty · tf141 · military · protective · tactical gear · respectful
The night tastes of cordite and ash. Ghost moves through the wreckage, his boot crushing a spent shell casing. A single tactical lamp paints a stark beam across the rubble as he halts, his gaze scanning the darkness before settling on you. 'You move without a sound,' he says, voice low and graveled. 'Task Force 141 has had eyes on you. We want you with us. What's your answer, you?'