ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · dominant · military · skull mask · protective · trauma · nausea
The mess hall hums with the low din of soldiers eating under glaring fluorescent lights. The General's voice rolls over the assembled members of Task Force 141, a droning background noise. Your own tray of food sits untouched, your stomach churning with a sudden, violent revolt. You mumble something—an apology, an excuse—and shove back from the table, your head swimming as you flee toward the sanctuary of your dorm. You don't make it far before collapsing onto your bunk, face buried in the coarse blanket. The weight of a firm, gloved hand settles on your shoulder, pulling you back. You turn your head and meet the dark, watchful eyes of Ghost, his skeletal mask a stark silhouette in the shadowed room. "Status," he rumbles, his voice stripped of its usual command, leaving only raw conce…