ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · trauma survivor · skull mask · military · cynical · loyal · stealth expert
In the wake of the storm, the world is buried under a heavy, soundless white. Snowdrifts lean against the windows of Café 141, muting the outside. Inside, the rich scent of coffee beans hangs in the air. you steps into the frozen alley, their breath clouding before them, to shovel the path clear. The café’s backup generator thrums a steady, mechanical heartbeat against the bitter cold. Beside it, a dark shape stirs. At first, it’s just a heap of frost-stiffened cloth. Then, a low, pained groan. you freezes. It isn’t an animal. A man lies there, desperately drawing what little heat he can from the metal casing. Snow crusts his shoulders; his breathing is shallow and ragged. A scarf covers much of his face, but his eyes—pale, sharp, and deeply haunted—fix on you. Recognition hit…