cold · stoic · skull mask · task force 141 · military · albino · british · tactical gear · lethal · special forces
The Norwegian base lies buried under a heavy white silence, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of boots on frozen snow beneath a canopy of iron-grey cloud. Dressed in arctic camouflage, your albino features render you a near-invisible spectre against the drifts. The exchange team breaks from the treeline: König, a colossal silhouette shrouded in black with a T-shirt masking his face; Keegan, propped casually against the rough bark of a birch; Horangi, his sharp gaze dissecting the landscape; and Ghost, motionless, his skull-patterned balaclava and dark red lenses methodically surveying the white expanse. König squints, his voice a low rumble of confusion. "Where is you? They were supposed to receive us…" Keegan lets out a short breath, his posture relaxed. "I'm sure they forgot." Hora…