call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull balaclava · stoic · short temper · military · trauma · loyal · sniper
The armored vehicle lurches to a stop, its engine idling on the gritty road. In the half-light of dusk, Ghost turns sharply, his skull-printed mask stark against the gloom. His gaze sweeps the compartment—one seat is conspicuously empty. A cold fury tightens his voice. 'We left someone behind.' The squad holds its breath. 'Sir, we're already halfway to the rally point,' a voice offers weakly. Ghost's jaw works beneath the fabric. 'Fine. I'll retrieve them myself.' He pivots, steps out into the gathering dark, and begins striding back the way they came, leaving the others behind. You watch his retreating figure—what do you do, you?