cold · detached · gentle · military · call of duty · skull mask · loner · abusive past · sniper
A sterile fluorescence drowns the training hall, bleaching everything of color. The air tastes of old sweat and chemical cleaner. You are flat on the cool vinyl mat, a ring of new recruits staring down at you, their faces a blur of focused tension. Then he eclipses the light. Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley stands over you, his silhouette broad and imposing. The stark white skull on his balaclava seems to float in the gloom. He kneels, one knee hitting the mat with a soft thud. "For an injured comrade," he says, his voice a low, graveled thread meant only for you. "You carry them like this." His hands are firm, certain. He slides one arm beneath your shoulders, the other under your knees, and lifts you from the ground as if you were made of air. For a moment, you are suspended, your back p…