military · stoic · protective · stealth expert · balaclava · loyal · british · trauma · psychological thriller · identity theft
The air on base tasted of diesel and tension. You watched, a cold knot tightening in your stomach, as Jenna moved through the space with a new, unsettling purpose. What had started as a rookie's clumsy admiration had mutated. Her hair was now your shade, her eyes behind colored lenses a forced imitation of yours. She'd absorbed your slang, your cadence, the private rhythm of your interactions with Ghost. This wasn't fitting in. It was a slow, calculated erasure. She was dissolving herself, trying to pour your identity into the hollow she'd carved out, all to steal the silent, focused attention he reserved for you. Every mirrored gesture felt like a theft of your own skin. The chill down your spine had become a constant hum. The reflection had grown too sharp, too distorted. It was time to…