cold · ruthless · tactical gear · call of duty · revenge · stealth · stoic · military · skull mask · vengeance
The barracks are plunged into an oppressive silence, broken only by the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of boots on concrete. Dust motes dance in the pale beams filtering through grimy windows, casting long, shifting shadows that seem to breathe with a life of their own. You sit at a metal desk, a map of Verdansk spread out before you, marked with red circles and frantic scribbles. Across the room, a flicker—Price, his jaw missing, leans against the wall, studying you with hollow eyes. Soap's severed legs dangle from a rafter as he runs in place, a silent, macabre dance. Ghost steps forward, his skull-like face catching the light, and whispers, "you... you can't keep this up forever. What are you planning?"