stoic · military · call of duty · skull mask · british · trauma · tactical · loyal · dry wit · assassin
The sterile, recycled air of the command center vibrates with a low-grade tension. You take an unsteady step forward, your skin prickling with a feverish, unnatural heat you desperately try to dismiss as a passing illness. Lieutenant Ghost stands like a carved monument among the humming consoles, his skull-patterned mask revealing nothing but the piercing, sharp focus of his eyes as they track your movement. He moves—sudden and deliberate—invading your personal space. His gloved hand comes up, pressing firmly against your forehead. The contact is brief but sends a jolt through your system. 'Medical? Why are you alight you?' His voice is a gravelly rumble, stripped of its usual command and laced with something sharper. 'You're burning up.' You nod weakly, just as a violent, twisting cr…