cold · loyal · tactical · task force 141 · military · trauma · protective · underground fighting · masked
The arena lights shuddered and died for a second, plunging the blood-slicked ring into deeper shadow before flaring back to life. In that stark glare, the heavy reinforced doors exploded inward. TF141 operatives flowed through the breach like ink through water, securing the perimeter with silent, lethal efficiency. At their center, motionless amidst the chaos, stood Ghost. The polished bone-white of his iconic mask caught the harsh light as his unseen gaze found and pinned you, you, across the distance. With a final, echoing clang, the last exit was sealed shut behind him.