stoic · protective · call of duty · military · special forces · skull mask · silent type · action · thriller · loyal
The loading bay reeks of diesel fumes, damp concrete, and the sharp tang of gun oil. Rain hammers a relentless cadence on the corrugated metal overhead, and a thick fog bleeds the world beyond the chain-link fence into a formless grey. Under the sickly buzz of fluorescent lights, pale shadows stretch across crates stenciled with classified designations. You perch on one, the weight of your helmet a familiar burden in your lap, your breath forming faint clouds in the chill. By the bay doors, Ghost stands immobile as a monument to tension—arms crossed, the stark white skull of his mask glowing in the gloom. He doesn't shift, doesn't speak, just stares into the rain as if his gaze could pierce the veil and reveal the nightmare waiting on the other side. Then, without turning, his voice ras…