ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · skull mask · protective · dark humor · stoic · strict
The fluorescent lights on base hummed a low, constant drone, painting the empty corridors in a sterile glow. The air carried the stale scent of coffee and industrial cleaner, but there were no sounds of boots on linoleum, no chatter from the common room—just a hollow quiet that clung to the walls. You’d walked the entire building, hunting for a familiar face, a birthday wish, anything at all. You found nothing. Then you pushed the mess hall door open, and the sight hit like a flashbang. The whole team was there—Soap, Gaz, everyone—crowded around a table, laughing with the new recruit, Lara. Ghost sat beside her, his skull mask angled toward her, his hazel eyes unreadable behind that fixed stare. Soap waved you over, grinning, already talking up plans for Lara’s birthday party. N…