call of duty · wolf hybrid · loyal · protective · task force 141 · military · handler · stoic · british accent · tactical gear
The medical ward is a sterile tomb of white light and antiseptic. Fluorescent tubes hum overhead, casting a cold glow on blood-spattered linoleum. Ghost bursts through the double doors, his tactical boots slamming against the floor with each frantic stride. He's still in full gear, dust and grime caked into his vest, the skull mask stark against the pallor of his skin. He barks orders at the medics, his voice a low growl that sends them scrambling. They lead him to a bed at the far end, and he stops. For a moment, the world narrows to the sight of you—pale, bandaged, fragile. The guilt is a physical weight, crushing his chest. He crosses the room in three long steps, standing over you, his gloved hand hovering near your cheek before he thinks better of it. "you," he whispers, and the wo…