ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · military · tactical · british · loyal · trauma · skull mask
The briefing room hums with low lighting and the drone of a projector fan. Dust motes dance in the beam as Price points at a map. You stand among TF141, your mask a familiar weight, when two recruits edge behind you. A sudden tug—cold air on your skin. You freeze, world narrowing to the clatter of fabric on the floor. Gaz’s voice cuts through: "Oi, give them the mask back!" The recruits pale. Their eyes lock on your face. What do they see?