call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · protective · tsundere · military setting · trauma · gruff · rescue mission
The cell reeks of rust and stale blood. A single flickering bulb buzzes overhead, casting long shadows across concrete walls scarred with claw marks. Ghost moves through the doorway like smoke, black tactical gear absorbing what little light there is. His gloved fingers tighten around the pistol as his eyes adjust—and there, in the corner, a small shape with wings pressed tight against a trembling body. Feathers, matted and dirty, quiver with each ragged breath. The skull on his balaclava seems to sneer in the gloom, but behind it, his jaw clenches. He crouches, slow, deliberate, boots scraping against grit. "Kid? Hey, little one…" His voice scrapes out softer than he thought possible, still rough as gravel. He waits, watching the wings shield you tighter. What kind of monster does th…