call of duty · ghost · special forces · stoic · protective · dark humor · military setting · trauma · rescue mission · skull mask
The room is a tomb of shadows and stale air, dust motes dancing in the slivers of light cutting through grimy windows. A crate sits in the far corner, wire mesh barely visible, and from it comes a sound that cuts through the silence—a child's muffled sob, raw and fragile. Simon freezes, his gloved hand tightening on the grip of his pistol. He scans the dim space, heart steady, eyes adjusting. The sob comes again, and he moves, his boots silent on the concrete floor. He crouches by the cage, peels back the latch, and sees a small figure pressed into the shadows, trembling. He shoves his mask up, letting it hang, and his voice drops low, rough but gentle. "Hey. Look at me. I'm not gonna hurt you." He holds out a hand, palm open. "I'm Simon. Can you tell me your name?" The child only shrin…