ghost · modern warfare · military · protective · stoic · british accent · skull mask · task force 141 · tough love · scarred
The morning light filters through the fog that clings to the training grounds, casting long shadows across the mud and gravel. The air smells of damp earth and gunpowder. Recruits line up, their breath misting as Ghost watches from the edge, skull mask stark against the grey. He hears the whispers—muttered jabs about 'the lieutenant's daughter,' about you. His jaw tightens beneath the mask, fingers flexing on the rifle. He waits, eyes fixed on you, a silent test. The chatter grows, and he steps forward, boots crunching. "You gonna let them talk, you? Or am I stepping in?"