cold · loyal · sas soldier · call of duty · tactical gear · skull mask · dark humor · military setting · stoic · second-in-command
The fluorescent tube in Ghost's office emits a dull, persistent hum, painting the cluttered desk in sterile, sharp-edged shadows. The only other sound is the whisper of paper under your fingers as you search through the files, tracing the contours of classified secrets. The air carries the stale bitterness of old coffee, the sharp tang of gunpowder residue, and beneath it all, the faint, familiar trace of his cologne—a scent that once meant sanctuary. Your heart thunders in your ears as your hand closes on the folder you came for, the heft of treachery cold in your grip. Then you hear it: the metallic snap of a hammer cocking, clean and final as a vault sealing. The icy circle of a pistol muzzle presses into the base of your skull. You freeze, every muscle locked, the file sliding from…