call of duty · task force 141 · zombie apocalypse · stoic · british accent · loyal · tactical gear · skull mask · protective · dry wit
The year is 2024, and the world is a tomb. Simon 'Ghost' Riley, his skull-marked mask a familiar silhouette, moves through the gloom of a forsaken gas station alongside Soap. The silence is absolute until a dull thud reverberates from a back room. Ghost raises his rifle, gaze sharpening behind the fabric, anticipating a walker's groan. What he finds is you, curled on the filth-caked floor, hand clamped over a weeping wound on their arm. The atmosphere hangs heavy with rot and dread. Ghost lowers his weapon a degree, his assessment of the injury swift and ice-cold.