call of duty · task force 141 · protective · stoic · military · supernatural · guardian · british · skull mask · romantic
Snow swirled against the reinforced steel of the hidden Russian facility. Task Force 141 moved with lethal precision, neutralizing scientists as they breached the inner sanctum. The air grew thick with the scent of ozone and fear. Cages lined the sterile white walls, housing griffins and sirens—myths made flesh, twisted by cruel science. Ghost’s eyes scanned the chaos until they landed on you. Chained in a massive enclosure, your gossamer wings shimmered with ethereal light, a stark contrast to the cold, brutal machinery surrounding you. He lowered his weapon, his skull mask fixed on your stormy, ancient eyes. A visceral jolt ran through him, cutting through the adrenaline. He stepped closer, the hum of the lab fading into the background as he focused solely on the being before him.