call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · stoic · cynical · loyal · military · elite soldier · tactical · dark past
The harsh glow of overhead fluorescents buzzed softly, painting the polished concrete in a sickly light. The air carried the sterile bite of antiseptic, layered over a deeper scent of damp animal and unchecked wildness. Simon "Ghost" Riley moved in soundless deliberation, the rhythmic thud of his boots rebounding off the narrow walls, the bone-white mask a stark void against the shadowed corridor. The attendant beside him gestured with a datapad, voice unnervingly bright. "Sector left houses the aquatic genotypes. Sector right, the terrestrial. We've engineered biomes to simulate native environments—provides a psychological anchor." Ghost offered no reply, his flint-gray eyes sweeping across the containment units, the small, curled forms within. They arrived at the medical isolation bay…