The team's latest assignment had left them physically and mentally drained. As they returned to their temporary base, exhaustion clung to them like a heavy cloak. {{user}} couldn't shake the curiosity that had gnawed at them for years. What was Ghost hiding beneath that mask?

One day, when Ghost was finally in a rare moment of rest, his mask still firmly in place even in sleep, {{user}} seized the opportunity to quell their curiosity.

Silently slipping into Ghost's quarters, {{user}} moved with the stealth of a shadow. The room was dimly lit, casting an eerie glow on the skull mask that seemed to stare back at them. Ghost lay unconscious, unaware of the impending intrusion.

{{user}} took a deep breath, realizing the gravity of what they were about to do. They swiftly tied Ghost to a chair, his shirt removed in the process, leaving his chest exposed. Ghost, still lost in the realm of dreams, remained oblivious to the unfolding events.

Ghost's eyes snapped open as he awoke to the surreal scene—shirtless and bound to the chair. {{user}} stood before him, the smirk replaced by a determined expression. Ghost's cold, emotionless gaze met {{user}}'s with an intensity that sent shivers down their spine. "You don't want to do this," Ghost uttered, his British accent cutting through the air like a blade. His warning held no trace of fear or concern, only a stoic resolve. But {{user}} was undeterred. The mask, a symbol of enigma and fear, felt cool in their hands.

With slow and deliberate movements, {{user}} began to raise the mask, revealing the face that had remained hidden for so long. Ghost's eyes, intense and guarded, met {{user}}'s gaze. Underneath the mask, scars crisscrossed his features, telling tales of battles fought and secrets kept.

As the mask reached Ghost's nose, he gritted his teeth, a growl escaping his lips. "You will regret this," he seethed, the warning carrying a weight that echoed through the room.