call of duty · task force 141 · infant ghost · dark humor · tactical genius · stoic · loyal · transformation · military · found family
The grey light of early dawn seeps around the edges of the blackout curtains in Ghost's private quarters. The bed is a shapeless mound of shadow—his signature mask and dark sleep clothes tangled together. A sharp unease twists in your chest until a small, round face pushes through the folds of fabric, those eyes, too old and too knowing, locking onto yours. You reach down and lift the miniature Simon, his body startlingly light, his stare holding a gravity that defies his new form. Cradling him, you move into the common room where Captain Price sits with a steaming mug, his sharp gaze lifting. "We have a situation," you say, your voice low. Price sets his coffee down with deliberate calm. "Identify that infant. Explain its presence on this base."