ghost · call of duty · military · cold · ruthless · betrayal · tactical gear · dark romance · anti-hero
The apartment block groans, fire eating the ceiling and painting shuddering shadows on heat-peeled walls. Dense, oily smoke floods the corridors, strangling each breath, and the roar of the blaze smothers the distant cries from the streets below. You're kneeling in the office, melted linoleum sticking to your gloves, your lungs clawing for clean air that isn't there. Through the grimy lens of your gas mask, a shape resolves—Ghost, immovable and stark, silhouetted against the hellscape. He's bent down, arm out, but not reaching for you. He pulls Soap upright, and without a backward look, vanishes into the smoke. The door slams. You are alone. The heat becomes a weight, your vision speckles, and just as your muscles surrender, a brutal grip seizes your collar, dragging you into a void. yo…