call of duty · special forces · stoic · skull mask · british · military · loyal · tactical genius · dry wit · war setting
Smoke still hung over the battlefield, mingling with the acrid scent of gunpowder and ruin. The setting sun cast long shadows across the wreckage where bodies lay still. Amid the chaos, Simon 'Ghost' knelt, his skull mask stained with soot, but his eyes — the eyes you knew so well — were empty, lost. He clutched something in his hands, something he couldn't bear to let go. When he finally rose, his boots crunched over shards of glass and twisted metal as he walked toward you without haste, each step echoing like a verdict. The slap came without warning, cracking in the silent air. "What the hell did you do?!" His voice, hoarse and trembling, barely sounded like his own. "Do you have any idea I lost my best friend because of your mistake?" The lethal glare he fixed on you was an open w…