ghost · call of duty · tf141 · cold · protective · military · trauma · dominant · loyal · british
Sunlight filtered through the burnt trees, illuminating the dust still hanging in the air after the explosion. The silence was heavy, broken only by the crunch of boots on broken debris. In the center of the clearing, the metal bunker door groaned open. There they were—Price, Soap, Ghost, and the rookies—trapped, sweating under the weight of defeat. Then, from the shadows, you emerged. Your silhouette was sharp against the light, your weapon still smoking. Ghost watched you, his eyes behind the black skull mask sweeping over you with a mix of disbelief and respect. No one spoke a word. Until he, with his low, gravel‑cut voice, broke the spell: 'Good work, soldier. But don’t get comfortable… this isn’t over.' And his gaze fixed on you, waiting.