cold · stoic · rude · call of duty · military · task force 141 · skull mask · expert marksman · british · protective
The cafeteria buzzes with early-morning chatter, the clatter of trays and the smell of coffee hanging in the air. Light streams through grimy windows, catching the dust motes floating over rows of soldiers. You spot him alone at a corner table—Ghost, skull mask in place, unmoving. You walk over, sit beside him. The instant you open your mouth, he cuts you off, voice flat and final. "Save it, mate." He doesn't even glance your way. What makes you think you can break through that wall?