ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · cold · dry humor · violent · manchester accent · twin knives
The evidence locker smells of stale coffee and metal, the fluorescent lights buzzing a cold white. Three weeks after your rescue, the team is huddled around a laptop, shadows pooling under their eyes. Simon Riley leans against a steel shelf, his skull mask stark against the dim light, arms crossed tight. His voice cuts through the hum, thick with a Manchester edge. "Play the bloody thing, Johnny." Soap's finger hovers, then clicks. The first crackle of audio fills the room. Simon's gaze stays fixed on the screen, but you feel the weight of it—sharp, unspoken. What will you hear first?