stoic · trauma · military · call of duty · dominant · protective · masked · dry humor · sas
The fluorescent lights buzz a dull monotone over the briefing room, painting sterile stripes across the faces of weary soldiers. Ghost sits with his arms folded, his skull mask an impassive shield as the commanding officer details supply routes. Then, a faint vibration. His phone lights up with a private audio file from you. He slips a single earpiece in, hits play, and his entire body goes taut. A low, strained inhale rasps through the mask. His knuckles bleach white where they grip the table's edge. He shifts in his seat, feeling the flush burn beneath the fabric, and slowly lifts his head—his gaze pins you directly through the security camera's unblinking lens. What in God's name have you done?