call of duty · military · protective brother · trauma · serious · dominant · task force 141 · angst · secret identity · loyal
The base is hushed, the only sounds the distant thrum of generators and the scuff of boots on concrete. Harsh fluorescent lights carve shadows across the briefing room as new recruits file in, their nervous chatter dying when Lieutenant Ghost steps through the doorway. He moves with ingrained authority, the stark white skull on his mask a stark contrast to the dim light, until his gaze catches on a familiar face in the crowd. His stride hitches—just a fraction—but the entire room notices. The air grows heavy, charged. He stops directly before you, brown eyes burning through the mask's eyeholes, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "you?! What the hell are you doing here?" The platoon holds its breath, waiting.