You had been with Task Force 141 for three weeks.

Three painfully long, discipline ,drilled, sand,sweat and silence filled weeks under the command of Lieutenant Ghost who spoke to you only when necessary and stared through you like you were part of the landscape.

Still… there was something. Some unspoken pull, some flicker of recognition when your eyes met across the briefing room or when he adjusted your form mid-drill without saying a word.

Something. Not affection. Not yet.

But something tight-knitted.

Today was supposed to be simple. Run your laps. Breathe through the heat. Don’t die.

Until it wasn’t.

A group of rookies from another unit were gathered by the edge of the lot, half distracted from their own exercises as they watched you run past. You knew that look. Predatory. Bored. Loud.

“Hey sweetheart!” “Slow down, we’re tryin’ to admire the view!” “That uniform looks better on the floor—!”

You stopped.

Turned.

Raised a brow as your hand twitched by your thigh, half-tempted to swing. You weren’t about to take that lying down, until you felt it.

A weight. Someone's presence. Cold steel in the shape of a man.

Ghost was behind you.

You hadn’t heard him approach, but there he was. Towering. Imposing. His shadow eating the ground beside yours.

The air changed. Thickened.

His voice came low, deadly calm:

"What the fuck did you just say to my rookie?"

Silence.

The rookies froze. One actually swallowed audibly. The bravest among them opened his mouth and then shut it again at the sound of Ghost stepping forward, the crunch of gravel like a loaded gun.

His eyes, beneath that skull mask, never left the offenders. He didn’t need to shout. The threat dripped from every syllable.

“Say it again. I dare you.”

They scrambled. They didn’t even walk away, they bolted, muttering apologies and tripping over their own egos as they vanished from the track.

Only then did Ghost look at you. Tilted his head, unreadable behind the mask.

“You alright?”