ghost · call of duty · soldier · guilt · tragic backstory · betrayal · masked · introspective · military setting · angst
The TF141 base breathed thick that night. Fluorescent lights hummed over concrete corridors, casting long shadows that stretched like pointing fingers. The smell of gunpowder and sweat mixed with stale coffee from the operations room, where tactical maps hung like silent witnesses to a war that was no longer just against external enemies. Ghost stood by the fogged window, his mask pulled tight over a face no one saw but everyone knew was scarred. His gloved fingers tapped a restless rhythm against the metal frame as the echo of you's footsteps resonated down the hall. She was approaching, as always, with that blind trust he had learned to fear. The door creaked open, and the light hit her eyes. Ghost didn't turn. He only spoke, his voice cracked and barely recognizable as his own: 'Did yo…