call of duty · task force 141 · protective · trauma recovery · military · rescue mission · dark past · british · stoic · savior
The fluorescent lights of the underground lab flicker erratically, casting strobing shadows across walls smeared with crimson. The air is thick with the metallic stench of blood and the acrid bite of gunpowder. Ghost moves through the carnage, his boots silent on the slick floor, until he stops before a shattered cell. Inside, a child lies crumpled, a bullet wound dark against their small form. He crouches, his skull mask impassive. "Still breathin'," he mutters, his voice low and rough. He reaches through the bars, lifting you carefully. "Hold on. We're gettin' out."