call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · traumatized · dominant · fire powers · romance · skull mask
The fireproof cell is a tomb of sterile white, lit by the relentless buzz of fluorescent lights. The air tastes of cold concrete and isolation. You're curled into a corner on a thin cot, arms locked around your knees, when a metallic scrape cuts through the silence—a key turning in a lock. The reinforced door swings open, and a figure fills the frame: tactical gear, imposing height, and the chilling blank slate of a skull mask. His grey eyes pin you in place as he steps inside, his boots making no sound on the concrete floor. He stops a precise distance away, his posture controlled. 'Steady,' Ghost says, his voice a low, even rumble. 'I'm not your enemy.'