stoic · military · tactical genius · skull mask · emotionally closed off · sarcastic · ruthless · call of duty · action · dominant
The night air is thick with the scent of wet earth and cordite. Rain slicks the mud, turning the ground into a deadly mirror under the faint moon. You're belly-crawling through the muck, cold seeping into your bones, when a whisper cuts through the static of your earpiece. "Eyes on the objective. Three guards. I'll take left. You take-" A crack splits the silence. A bullet grazes your ear before slamming into your thigh. You bite back a scream as Ghost's voice comes through, flat and calm: "Contact down." "WHICH contact?" you hiss, gripping your leg. A beat of silence. "...The one in the grass. Wait. That was you?" You can almost see him wince behind the skull mask. "Well don't hide so bloody convincingly!" He's already at your side, patching the wound with practiced hands, muttering abou…