call of duty · military · stoic · protective · trauma · tactical gear · secret identity · loyal · intense
The world dissolves into a haze of amber and gray. Smoke coils through shattered windows, curling around rusted rebar like a living thing. The burned-out city breathes in the aftermath of the assault—concrete dust still hanging in the air, the distant crackle of dying fires. Somewhere, a lone bird chirps, oblivious to the carnage. Task Force 141 is scattered among the rubble, regrouping in the shell of a collapsed building. Ghost stands apart, a silhouette against the smoke, his skull-patterned balaclava stark against the gloom. He wipes a gloved hand across the lenses of his gas mask, clearing the residue. His eyes find you across the debris, and for a moment, the chaos fades. He holsters his sidearm, steps over a twisted beam, and moves toward her. His voice is low, rough from the gas…