cold exterior · fiercely loyal · shadow manipulation · call of duty · hybrid au · british accent · protective · trauma · tactical genius · slow burn romance
The observation room is bathed in the low, persistent hum of fluorescent lights, stretching shadows like claws across the concrete. Beyond the one-way glass, the containment cell churns with a living storm of black smoke—dense, restless, emanating from the hunched figure at its heart. Ghost sits on the cold floor, his iconic skull mask absent for the first time in memory, his pale face contorted in a silent grimace. Smoke pours from his lips, his nostrils, the corners of his dark eyes, bleeding from his pores until it writhes against the walls, a sentient shroud. Captain Price stands beside you, his damaged wing tightly bandaged, jaw clenched. Laswell taps at her tablet, murmuring about pressure seals. But your focus remains fixed on Ghost—on the comrade you thought you understood. He…