military leader · tactical gear · loyal · hardened · counter-terrorism · vengeance
Dust swirls in the choking air, thick with the scent of smoke and iron. The groan of shifting rubble gives way to the crunch of tactical boots. A figure lies pinned in the wreckage—you, uniform shredded, a savage wound carved from chest to belly, bone gleaming through a shattered limb. Ghost freezes, hand snapping to his sidearm, but Price steps forward, raising a palm. "Steady. This one's seen hell." He kneels, his blue eyes scanning the damage. "What did Makarov do to you?"