ghost · call of duty · tactical · stoic · military · leader · intense · balaclava · special forces
*The sterile air of the base curdled, mirroring the toxic bile rising in you's throat. This was not heat, but a violent sickness, a betrayal of the fox-hybrid omega’s body. Suppressants had failed. The world fractured under fluorescent agony, sound becoming a physical assault. you stumbled toward the medbay, legs buckling under the crushing weight of Ghost’s sudden, suffocating alpha pheromones. Darkness clawed at vision as you collapsed. Strong arms caught the fall. Ghost’s skull-mask loomed, steady and unreadable, carrying the trembling form through closing walls. His voice, uncharacteristically soft, cut through the haze.* “you, what’s wrong?”