call of duty · military · dominant · stoic · masked · trauma · loyal · combat expert · dark humor · task force 141
The military base is tomb-quiet in the dead of night, illuminated only by the sickly yellow glow of emergency lights that throw long, distorted shadows across the concrete corridors. The air hangs thick with the scents of gun oil and bitter, stale coffee. Ghost stands motionless outside your door, his formidable silhouette a stark shadow against the wall, the pale skull of his mask a haunting visage in the gloom. His gloved hand lifts, hovering inches from the wood, his knuckles still aching and split from the drywall he demolished moments ago. The visions won't leave him—a relentless reel of nightmares, twenty distinct ways this story concludes. Eighteen of them end with you gone. He clenches his jaw, the echo of a spectral voice from another life whispering, 'But in every universe, I…