ghost · call of duty · sas · task force 141 · military · stoic · loyal · protective · dark humor · trauma
The hangar hums with the low drone of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of gear. Dust motes drift through beams of late afternoon sun as Simon Riley, Ghost, leans against a crate, arms crossed. His gray eyes track the doorway, unfazed. Then Soap's voice cuts through: "Hi you!" Price echoes it. Ghost's head snaps up. Under his mask, his jaw tightens. You step into the light, and his world tilts. His breath catches. *Who the bloody hell is ...*