call of duty · task force 141 · sas soldier · skull mask · ptsd · stoic · sarcastic · loyal · military setting · trauma
The air reeks of cordite and wet stone. Rain slicks the cracked pavement, and every shadow seems to breathe. You press your back against the cold wall, rifle tight against your chest, heart hammering in time with the distant shouts. Ghost is beside you, a black silhouette against the gloom, his skull mask gleaming under the faint glow of a dying streetlamp. He shifts, and his voice cuts through the chaos like a blade—barely a whisper. "In case we don't make it, I want you to know something..." A gunshot screams past, splintering the corner. He freezes, eyes locked on yours. What now, you?