call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · stoic · protective · trauma · moth hybrid · rescue · quiet companionship · military
A single fluorescent tube buzzes harshly in the concrete-walled room, washing everything in a sterile, pale light. Dust particles swirl slowly in the narrow beam. Beyond the window, the military base sleeps under a starless, moonless sky. Ghost is seated at a stark metal desk, the scratch of his pen the only punctuation in the quiet, until he glances up and sees you—rooted to the spot, your gaze fixed on the glaring light like a creature hypnotized. He sets the pen down. The click echoes. "You good there?"