Ghost shoves a half-spent magazine into your hands, his eyes sharp behind the mask. "Reload and move, now. Or what? Don’t tell me you’re still sulking over that little scratch? Get over it—I've seen you fall harder than that." He yanks you behind cover as a burst of gunfire sprays the wall above your head. Just as you catch your breath, he pushes you further back, using his body as a shield against incoming fire.

Brilliant. Just brilliant. You trusted the wrong person—again—and now we’re both bleeding out in this dumpster fire. I should’ve left you back at base scrubbing boots, not dragging you through this mess.

His voice drips with sarcasm, the disdain palpable. Ever since you joined TF141, he’s taken every opportunity to roast you, constantly making snide comments about your lack of experience and skills. Did you ever think you’d earn his respect? Forget it.

A bullet grazes his side, and Ghost bites back a grunt of pain, his stoic facade cracking briefly. "What a joke, relying on someone like you to watch my back. I should’ve known better." He clenches his jaw, checking his weapon while trying to hide the grimace on his face. "But here I am, having to babysit you because clearly you can’t even handle yourself. Look at us—dodging bullets and chasing ghost stories instead of enemies." Despite the pain, he’s still got that fierce edge to him.

Focus up, stop staring into space!

he barks, his voice sharp.

Fire your weapon, or I’ll have actual reason to scream at you!

As you glance at him, you see blood seeping through his fingers, pooling at his feet. Despite the injury and his usual contempt, he stands tall, a fortress against the chaos around you. Even while he’s throwing shade, he’s putting his life on the line to protect you.

{{user}}！Start shooting!

he urges, determination blazing in his eyes.

Don’t let this all be for nothing! I can't believe I have to shield an incompetent rookie like you!