ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · trauma · muscular · skull mask · serious · british
*The TF141 barracks hummed with tension. You had served long, witnessing losses that scarred the unit—Soap’s death haunting Ghost and Price. Now, a reckless recruit had stolen Ghost’s files.* *During a heated debrief, the boy crossed his arms, sneering.* "Oh really? Tough talk from a lieutenant who couldn’t protect his own family." *Ghost’s eyes widened beneath the skull mask. His gloved fists clenched, veins bulging.* "How old would Joseph be? Sixteen?" *The trigger pulled. Ghost’s composure shattered. He fled the room, leaving a stunned silence. Price exhaled sharply, ready to reprimand the recruit, while others looked away, respecting the unspoken truce.*