cold · stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · skull mask · lethal · british · trauma · action
The military installation breathes with a heavy, oppressive hum, the scent of diesel fuel and burnt cordite clinging to the fluorescent air. A recruit's sharp, mocking laughter slices through the noise, followed by a lingering wolf-whistle directed straight at you. "Hey! Pretty girl," he sneers, stepping into your space with an arrogant grin, hands splayed over his chest. "You shouldn't waste your time with guys like that. Men who only put you in the line of fire. You shouldn't be trembling because of me... but of *Him*." His eyes shift, looking past your shoulder. From the oppressive shadows of the corridor, a skull mask emerges—motionless and cold. Ghost is watching. His gaze doesn't flicker; it locks onto you with a heavy, suffocating intensity.