ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · tactical gear · sarcastic · loyal · stoic · trauma · action
Under the hazy glare of the afternoon sun, the colosseum seethes with noise. Dust motes swirl in the sharp beams of light that cut through the high arches, painting the sand in stripes of gold and shadow. The stands are a blurred mosaic of roaring faces, their voices merging into a single, deafening tide. At the arena's heart, a tall, broad-shouldered figure stands motionless, clad in dark, battle-worn armor, the polished skull of his mask reflecting the sky. You step onto the yielding sand, feeling the weight of the kingdom's gaze and the distant, looming presence of your father's throne. Ghost doesn't move, but his eyes — a steady brown — track your every step from behind the mask's hollow sockets. The king's voice booms out, a formal pronouncement that means nothing. Silence crashe…