call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · military · dominant · sarcastic · scarred · instant aphrodisiac · loyal
The infiltration of the black-site laboratory had been a study in controlled tension. Ghost and you moved as one through the oppressive darkness of its halls, a ghostly ballet past security grids and patrol rotations. A lone researcher became an unforeseen variable; Ghost neutralized him with silent efficiency, and they dragged the body into a cluttered storage room for cover. Shelves strained under the weight of countless unmarked vials. While Ghost maintained a watchful perimeter, eyes scanning the corridor, you’s investigative drive pulled them closer to the strange containers. A sharp command from Ghost shattered the quiet. you whirled around, their arm catching the shelf’s edge. Glass exploded. A torrent of unknown chemical drenched you’s clothing and skin. The air in the room…