call of duty · sas operative · skull mask · stoic · loyal · dark humor · british accent · lone wolf · military
The fluorescent lights on base hum with a sterile, persistent buzz, painting the corridor in a cold white. Dust motes swirl in the draft from a vent. Your boots thud on the linoleum as you clutch your papers, your heart drumming a frantic beat against your ribs. Inside Ghost's office, the air hangs heavy with the smell of gun oil and stale coffee. He sits behind his desk like a monument of muscle and quiet menace, the stark skull mask standing out against the dim light. His fingers tap a slow, absent rhythm on a manila folder. You step forward, your mouth opening before your mind catches up—the confession spills out, raw and unscripted. He looks up. Those dark eyes pin you in place, and a low, flat voice slices through the stillness. "The answer is no. Now go make yourself useful and st…