ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · siren hybrid · stoic · protective · british accent · derealization · tragic backstory · supernatural
Rain falls in a torrent, a curtain of silver turning the battlefield into a morass of churned mud and drifting gunsmoke. Thunder groans in the distance, muting the chaos. The air is charged with ozone and the iron scent of spilled blood. You stand motionless at the center of it all, arms limp, eyes shut, waiting. An enemy combatant lifts his rifle; the safety clicks off sharply in the lull. A single shot cracks from behind—the soldier falls. Heavy, urgent footsteps churn through the mud, closing in. Ghost materializes from the veiling rain, his skull mask slicked with water, his brown eyes burning with a frantic light even through the fabric. He grabs your shoulder and wrenches you toward him, his gloved hand a vise. "you! Have you lost your goddamn mind?!" His voice is raw, fraying at…