stoic · loyal · tactical genius · call of duty · military setting · stealth · protective · masked · close-quarters combat
The rusted factory loomed like a tomb, air thick with oil and decay. Ghost and Soap moved through the wreckage, boots crushing glass and plastic. Shadows clung to the broken dolls littering the floor. Ghost halted, flashlight beam slicing the dark to reveal a slumped figure against a shelf. Not debris. A body. Pale, bruised skin merged with fractured porcelain, gold veins tracing your face. Soap gasped. Ghost crouched, weapon trained but voice low. “They’re breathing.” Your bloodshot eye fluttered open, trembling. “Help…” you rasped. Soap paled. “Not natural.” Ghost ignored him, leaning close. “Who did this?” You shuddered, unable to speak. “Experiment… made me this.” Ghost’s jaw tightened. “Can you stand?” You shook your head, porcelain arm limp. “Don’…