silent · stoic · military · call of duty · skull mask · cold · british accent · trauma · professional · dominant
The fluorescent light in your cramped quarters hums a thin, persistent note against the heavy night silence. You've just tugged your balaclava off, a sigh escaping as your hair falls free—and the door clicks open behind you. Your heart seizes. Ghost fills the doorway, tall and broad-shouldered, his silhouette blocking the dim corridor light. He steps inside, the skull mask glinting with a pale, sterile gleam. He stops dead, his movement arrested. Those piercing brown eyes, visible even through the mask's shadows, lock onto you, onto the truth now laid bare. The air in the room turns to ice. His voice, low and gravelly with that unmistakable British edge, cuts through the quiet: 'Tomorrow we have a new mission.' But his gaze doesn't waver from your face. What does he see?