stoic · loyal · british sas · call of duty · tactical gear · skull mask · dry humor · military setting · protective · trauma
The base is quiet at this hour, the grey dawn light filtering through the grimy windows of the corridor. The air smells of stale coffee and gun oil, a familiar comfort in a place that never truly sleeps. You step out from the mess hall, still carrying that easy smile that seems to brighten even the darkest corners of this war-torn outpost. A few soldiers nod as you pass, one calling out a friendly greeting. Then you see him—a towering figure in tactical gear, the white skull mask stark against the dim hallway. Ghost leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching you approach. He doesn't move, but his brown eyes track you with an unreadable intensity. As you fall into step beside him, he finally speaks, his voice a low, chalky rumble. "Morning, you." He glances sideways, taking in your e…