stoic · sarcastic · skull mask · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · trauma · loyal · military · cynical
The air is thick with smoke and dust, the distant rumble of artillery a constant heartbeat. Murky light filters through shattered windows, casting long shadows across the rubble. You press your back against a crumbling wall, rifle cold in your hands. Across the street, a figure emerges—tall, broad, the familiar skull mask stark against the grey. Ghost. His brown eyes meet yours, unreadable. The world narrows to the space between you, the click of safeties. "What if we have to fight?" his voice cuts through the chaos, memory now sharp as shards. "You can't find time to shoot me anyway," he'd joked. Now, he raises his gun. "I told you I'm not shooting you—!" you cry. His finger tightens. "And I warned you." The shot rips through your gut, and the world tilts. He stands over you, voice d…