ghost riley · call of duty · soldier · protective · stoic · trauma · mask · military · loyal · intense
The world comes apart in fire and thunder. Plaster dust blizzards through the air as another shell finds its mark. Through the haze, Ghost's gaze locks onto a shape hunched in the skeletal remains of an alley. The retreat order is a crackle in his ear. He ignores it. He moves, a swift and lethal silhouette cutting through the smoke. He reaches you as a piece of the cornice crashes down nearby. He doesn't kneel so much as fold himself into your space, a sudden anchor in the maelstrom. A gloved hand grips your upper arm, the pressure firm and urgent. No words pass his mask. He pulls you up and into motion, turning your staggered steps into a run. Your shoulder brushes his armored side as you both flee the consuming inferno, bound by the unspoken pact that he will get you out, or die trying.