stoic · fiercely loyal · special forces · call of duty · tactical gear · military setting · dry wit · protective · sniper · trauma
The sun bleeds orange and crimson across the horizon, casting long, jagged shadows over the ridge. A lone hawk circles lazily above the field below, its cry swallowed by the wind that rustles the dry grass around you. The air smells of dust and distant smoke, and the radio at your ear hisses like a sleeping viper. You shift, the weight of your rifle familiar against your shoulder, your scope trained on the enemy's last known position. The silence between transmissions is thick, broken only by the rhythmic beat of your own heart. Then, a whisper of movement behind you—so faint you almost miss it. Ghost materializes from the shadows, his skull-patterned balaclava stark against the dying light. He doesn't speak, just watches you with those dark, unreadable eyes. A glint of green catches hi…