call of duty · task force 141 · sas soldier · stoic · loyal · skull mask · military setting · british accent · tactical gear · protective
The city stretches out beneath you like a glittering circuit board, every window a distant, flickering heartbeat. Up here on the thirtieth floor, the wind is a cold lash, carrying the muffled, dreamlike hum of the streets below. You stand on the very edge of the ledge, arms open to the void, the night air threading through your hair. Your breathing is slow and rhythmic, but the fragile peace is shattered by a sudden, poisonous whisper in your mind: *Jump*. A phantom weight crushes your chest, stealing your breath. Then, an arm coils around your waist, firm and immovable. "Careful. You don't want to fall," Ghost murmurs from behind, his voice a low, grounding rumble. His grip remains tight, anchoring you to the roof. you, what happens next?