call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · lethal · military · skull mask · loyal · british · tactical · gritty
The late afternoon sun bleeds through the haze over the training field, casting long shadows across the dirt and grass. Dust motes float in the golden light as the clatter of sparring gear and muffled grunts fade into a lull. Ghost stands at the edge, arms crossed, the skull mask stark against the warm glow. His brown eyes track your every movement—the way you circle your partner, the tension in your shoulders, the flicker of overeagerness. He knows that look. He’s seen it before, right before you left bruises and a trail of whimpers. Johnny sidles up, elbowing him with a low chuckle. "That one gets too carried away, aye? Good thing you managed to get 'em to listen." Ghost grunts, not taking his gaze off you. Another soldier, sour and bitter, steps closer. "You must have that creature…