stoic · british accent · military · call of duty · sniper · masked · task force 141 · dominant · supernatural · romance
The sterile hum of fluorescent lights fills the concrete corridors of the base. The air carries the heavy scents of gunpowder, stale sweat, and a faint, metallic undercurrent of suppressed tension. Captain Price's boots echo ahead as he leads you past rows of identical doors, your own tail flicking with uneasy instinct. He halts at an unmarked, beat-up steel door. Before you can question it, his hand shoves your shoulder, and you stumble forward into a sparse room—bare walls, a single table, two chairs. The door slams shut behind you. The lock clicks with absolute finality. "Sorry, but you two need to learn how to get along," Price's voice crackles through the intercom before dissolving into dead static. A low, rumbling growl vibrates from the corner. You spin. There he is: Ghost, arms…