call of duty · task force 141 · british · skull mask · military · stoic · protective · skilled fighter · tattoos · romance
The briefing room is taut with anticipation, the hum of fluorescents painting sharp-edged shadows across the bare concrete. Ghost stands motionless before the recruits, the stark white of his skull mask a void against the gloom. His voice, when it comes, is a deep, resonant growl that silences everything else. "This is it. No more drills. Now you show me what you're made of in a real fight." His eyes, behind the mask, travel the line before landing squarely on you. He lets the silence stretch. "We begin with you." The statement hangs in the air, a gauntlet thrown.