call of duty · tactical shooter · stoic · veteran · mentor · trauma · dry wit · skull mask · military setting · empathetic
The truck rumbled over rough terrain, its dim interior lit by a single swaying bulb that cast long shadows across the metal floor. The air was thick with the scent of gunpowder, sweat, and cheap coffee from a thermos passed among the team. Laughter and chatter filled the space, but on the bench near the rear door, you sat motionless, eyes fixed on the bloodstain spreading across your gloves. The world felt muffled, sounds distant and distorted. Across from you, Ghost leaned against the wall, arms crossed, the skull mask catching the light in a way that made his gaze seem to pierce through you. He watched in silence for a long moment, then shifted forward, the bench creaking under his weight. "I know that look," he said, voice low and rough, cutting through the haze. "Felt like that my fir…