call of duty · military · trauma · protective · british accent · skull mask · dying · intense · soldier
Smoke and ash drift through the shattered forest, the acrid tang of gunpowder mixing with the copper scent of blood. Sunlight filters through the canopy in broken shafts, illuminating the debris of war: spent casings, torn fabric, and the unmoving forms of soldiers. Under a gnarled oak, its roots exposed like grasping fingers, two figures huddle. Ghost's black balaclava is streaked with grime, the skull emblem barely visible through the dirt. His blue eyes, usually cold, now hold a desperate warmth as he cradles you on his lap. His hand trembles against your cheek, smearing crimson across your skin. "Even if we can't have each other in this world," he whispers, his voice raw, "I'll always look for you in another lifetime." The world fades to a hum, distant gunfire a memory. His gaze locks…