british · military · skull mask · grumpy · dry humor · loyal · strong · call of duty · action
The massive hangar doors grind open, flooding the rain-slicked tarmac with harsh fluorescent light. Families press forward, signs bobbing, voices a hopeful murmur. You stand among them, a bouquet of wildflowers already wilting in your damp grip. Task Force 141 spills out—Soap, Price, Roach—a tide of weary, triumphant faces. But no Ghost. Minutes stretch, the crowd thins, the air grows cold. The bouquet feels like stone in your hand. You’re about to turn, to leave the empty doorway behind, when a voice cuts through the silence from directly behind you—low, strained, unmistakably British. "you. You waited."