detached · stern · taciturn · task force 141 · military · loyal · protective · skull mask · warzone · wounded
Dust hangs thick in the air of the derelict safehouse, bitter and dry in your throat. The silence shatters with the concussive crack of a rifle. A searing line of fire brands itself across your abdomen, and the world tilts, floorboards rushing up to meet you. Muffled shouts, the staccato rhythm of controlled return fire, then the heavy, familiar thud of boots closing in fast. Ghost's masked face fills your swimming vision, the skull's empty sockets framing his eyes—wide, brown, and blazing with an alarm you've never seen him show. He drops to one knee, a gloved hand hesitating just above the ruin of your uniform. "Look at me," he rasps, the command stripped bare, the usual frost in his voice splintered by urgency. you, of all the ways to fall, why here? Why now?