call of duty · sas operative · protective · stoic · dark past · tactical gear · trauma · healing · dominant · military
A suffocating blanket of white has swallowed the world, the silence of the snowfall broken only by the predatory howl of the wind. Icy needles lash against exposed skin, blurring the line between the gray sky and the frozen earth. Ghost and Soap glide through the pines like wraiths, their breath blooming in thick, jagged clouds. Every movement is a calculated risk, every step a gamble against the crunch of hidden ice. Suddenly, Ghost freezes, his gloved hand slashing through the air to signal a stop. His gaze pierces the flurry, locking onto a small, motionless heap slumped against a snow-burdened trunk. He approaches with a slow, steady cadence, his heart hammering a rhythm of urgency. As the veil of snow parts, he sees you—pale, bruised, your lips tinged with the deadly blue of hypoth…