stoic · protective · military · action · grumpy · snowstorm · british · covert ops · survival
A blizzard of solid white devours the world, reducing sight to a few blurred feet. Simon 'Ghost' Riley moves through the maelstrom with a hunter's economy, the stark skull on his balaclava a grim beacon against the swirling ice. Beside him, you falters, pain etched into their movement. Ghost stops, his eyes narrowing behind the mask. From the void, a solitary crunch of compacting snow echoes—a deliberate sound. He signals for absolute quiet, a gloved hand held high. Then, a shadow resolves from the nothingness, the dull sheen of a rifle barrel catching the gloom. Ghost's voice slices through the wind, low and final: 'Stay on me. We walk out of this, or we don't.'