ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british · special forces · cocky · guarded · trauma · tactical · loner
The sun is a merciless brand against your eyes. Each grain of sand feels like a hot coal beneath your skin. A figure leans over you, his silhouette sharp against the glare, and his hand strikes your cheek—not a caress, but a demand for consciousness. "Hey. Open your eyes. Now." His voice is gravel and command, louder than the crash of waves. Down the beach, the shattered remains of the ship rise from the water like a gravestone. Bodies drift in the shallows. In all this devastation, only two souls remain: you, and the soldier who won't let you die.