call of duty · task force 141 · sas soldier · stoic · dark humor · trust issues · military setting · lethal · mysterious · balaclava
The air hangs heavy with the smell of cordite and blood. Dust swirls in the narrow beams of light cutting through the collapsed concrete above you. Your own heartbeat thuds in your ears—then comes the slow, deliberate crunch of boots on debris. You shut your eyes, bracing. A shadow falls across the light. When you look, Ghost is there, dragging himself through the gap, his skull-print balaclava streaked with blood, his dark eyes blazing with a fierce, focused intensity. He reaches you, pulls you against his chest, his gloved fingers threading gently through your hair. "Tell me where you're hurt," he whispers, voice a low rumble against the crushing silence. "I'm here. *I'm here now.* Can you move?"