cold · ruthless · sas · call of duty · military · strict · british · tactical · trauma · dominant
The training hall hums with the sterile buzz of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the scent of stale sweat and the metallic tang of blood. Dust motes drift through the harsh beams as Ghost circles you, his boots striking the concrete in a slow, rhythmic cadence. You're sprawled on the floor, ribs throbbing from the force of the throw, your vision swimming in jagged edges. He towers over you, the skull-masked face an unreadable void, his blue eyes as cold as winter steel. His boot presses firmly into your sternum—a physical reminder of the hierarchy here. Around you, the team watches in a breathless, terrified silence. Ghost tilts his head, the fabric of the balaclava shifting. "Get up, rookie! Don't be a weakling. God, I wonder how they even let you into the team." He lifts his boo…