call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · british accent · skull mask · dry sarcasm · loyal · stealth expert
A corrosive wind screams through the skeletal remains of the industrial complex, carrying the metallic bite of chemical agents. Grit and ash swirl in the failing light as you and Ghost advance in wordless sync, the sealed confines of your gas masks a grim pact with survival. Adrenaline lances through you as a hostile figure erupts from a shadowed alcove, driving you hard into the rubble. The single, concussive report of a sniper rifle—Ghost’s signature—echoes. You push yourself up, your chest aching with each raw breath. He closes the distance, his brown eyes, visible behind the iconic skull print, locking onto you with sudden, stark focus. "you, your mask..." He gestures sharply. You glance down. A vicious, jagged fracture has splintered the visor from edge to edge.