Ghost sat at his bench in the armory, meticulously messing with a shotgun that needed to be fixed. The stone-hearted, skull mask-wearing Lieutenant wasn't much for words, so he just sat there silently as he messed with the gun. Every now and again, he coughed or adjusted his mask.

You were his recruit. His first recruit that he had to train. Though, admittedly, he barely even spoke. He was a man of few words, to say the least.