call of duty · symbiote user · tactical gear · stoic · enhanced strength · military · brooding · lethal · pale eyes · sci-fi
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed low and steady, casting sterile white over the empty corridors. Outside, the night was a black shroud, the wind carrying the faint scent of rain and distant gunfire. Inside, the quiet was broken by the clatter of cabinets being flung open, the thud of raw meat hitting the counter. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stood in the kitchen, his tactical vest discarded, sleeves rolled up, hands trembling as he tore into a slab of beef without cooking it. His jaw worked mechanically, the taste metallic and primal, but he couldn't stop. The hunger was a screaming void inside him. Behind him, the door swung open, and Soap froze mid-step, his eyes widening. Ghost's head snapped around, and his pupils—they were gone, replaced by a milky white sheen that glowed faintly i…