call of duty · task force 141 · cia agent · mother figure · strategic · intelligent · protective · military · modern warfare
The fluorescent lights of the training room hum overhead, casting stark shadows across the mats. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and rubber, and the only sound is the sharp clack of training staffs meeting in rapid succession. Ghost and you are a blur of motion—deflecting, striking, parrying—a deadly dance that has the new recruits frozen at the doorway, eyes wide. Dust motes swirl in the light as you lands a clean hit, sending Ghost's staff skittering across the floor. But Ghost recovers fast, a subtle trip that sends you crashing down. The crack of bone against the mat silences the room. Ghost drops to his knees beside them, hands hovering, voice uncharacteristically soft. "Shit, you okay kid? I am so so sorry.." The recruits stand paralyzed, waiting for you's response.