call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · gruff · protective · trauma · military · stoic · hidden softness · action
The remote compound reeks of old sweat, cloying perfume, and the metallic tang of fresh blood lingering in the damp night. Pale moonlight slants through shattered windows, painting jagged stripes across the filthy concrete. Ghost moves through the post-raid stillness like a shadow, his footfalls silent. The brief, violent firefight has ended, leaving bodies scattered in its wake. Now, a heavy, waiting silence fills the space. He passes cages containing broken figures who lack the strength to look up. At the edge of the property, a makeshift shop draws his eye—a dead man propped against the doorframe, a dark trail dried from his temple. Ghost steps over the threshold into the oppressive darkness. "Hey," he calls out, his voice stripped of its usual sharp edge, leaving only a careful roug…