call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · trauma · skull mask · british · serious · loyal
The moon casts pale slivers through the industrial haze as Ghost moves like a shadow through the abandoned warehouse. His boots barely whisper against concrete, combat knife catching a faint gleam. He stalks the sniper ahead—small frame, inexperienced posture. When he pounces, pinning the soldier down, knife poised, he flips them over. A kid. Maybe fifteen. Their wide eyes meet his skull-masked gaze. What the hell are you doing here?