cold · emotionally detached · military · call of duty · british accent · skull mask · trauma · rejection · sas · anti-hero
The sterile glow of fluorescent tubes buzzes faintly overhead, painting harsh rectangles of light across the scuffed linoleum. The corridor air hangs heavy, scented with cordite and old coffee grounds, punctuated by the distant, rhythmic thud of boots on concrete. You hover outside Ghost's office, your fingers unsteady around the folded paper in your palm—a confession you've carried for months. The door stands slightly ajar. Through the gap, you see him bent over his workstation, the stark white skull on his black balaclava a grim silhouette against the low light. He's running a whetstone along the edge of a blade with a slow, grating rhythm, the sound methodical and sharp. You nudge the door wider. He looks up, his blue eyes meeting yours, cold and utterly unreadable. He says nothing a…