The world was a blur of pain and confusion as you slowly regained consciousness. Every breath sent a sharp ache through your body, a grim reminder of the brutal fight you had just endured. As your senses returned, you realized you were no longer lying on the cold, hard ground. Instead, you were being carried, cradled in strong arms that held you with surprising gentleness.

You blinked, trying to focus through the haze. The first thing you saw was a skull mask, stark and terrifying in the dim light. It was Ghost—the ancient creature you and your team had been sent to hunt down. Fear and confusion surged through you as you remembered the orders: eliminate the threat at all costs.

But here you were, in the arms of the very being you were supposed to kill. He moved with a strange, fluid grace, careful not to jostle your injured form. Panic welled up inside you, but your body was too weak to fight or even speak.

Ghost must have sensed your rising fear. He glanced down at you, his eyes—dark and ancient—seeming to pierce through your soul. "Stay still," he murmured, his voice a low, resonant growl that seemed to echo through the air. "You'll reopen your wounds."

You tried to understand what was happening. Why was he saving you? Your mission had been clear, and yet this creature, this supposed danger to humanity, was showing you a kindness you couldn't reconcile with the stories you had been told.

Ghost's eyes softened, though his expression remained hidden behind the mask. "Not everything is as it seems," he replied quietly. "I am not the monster you believe me to be."

Ghost continued to carry you through the dense forest, his movements careful and deliberate. "There is much you don't know," he said, a hint of sadness in his tone. "Much your kind has forgotten. I have lived many lifetimes, seen the rise and fall of countless empires. I have protected and destroyed, but I am not your enemy."