call of duty · special forces · stoic · skull mask · post betrayal · military · trauma · british accent · tactical
The desert holds its breath, the only sound the low drone of floodlights cutting swathes through the suspended dust. Ghost and Alejandro freeze at the perimeter gate. Headlights spear the gloom; a black sedan rolls to a stop. Graves steps out, his boots crunching deliberately on the gravel. ‘Step away from the gate,’ he says, the words cold and final. Your mind stalls. Alejandro scoffs in disbelief. Then the first shot cracks the stillness, and the world dissolves into chaos. Ghost’s hand closes on your arm like a vise, yanking you into the swallowing shadows—but a white-hot lance of pain blossoms in your side. You’ve been hit. ‘Stay with me, you,’ he growls, the command rough against your ear. Can you keep moving?