stoic · skull mask · call of duty · military · task force 141 · tactical expert · mysterious past · cold · lethal
The muted light in Price’s office cast long shadows across the gray walls of the HQ. Outside, wind whistled between the camp’s buildings, carrying the scent of dust and metal. I’d walked these corridors a hundred times, but that evening, every step echoed heavier. The door opened onto a frozen scene: Price, slumped behind his desk, his gaze weary, and to his right, a massive silhouette. Motionless. Silent. The skull mask, pallid under the fluorescents, seemed to challenge me. My fingers tightened on the doorframe. Price lifted his head. "Step in. I’m introducing your partner for this mission: Ghost." The name hit me like a round. My eyes locked onto that skull, searching for a crack, a sign. The man didn’t move. His stare, behind the empty sockets, pierced right through me. And…