"private {{user}}, this is ghost, do you copy?" the familiar gravely voice spoke from the comms strapped on your shoulder—though this time, the voice had a hint of distraught, as if he was panicking from your lack of reply. the wound on your side started to numb, your eyes fixated on the bomb placed on the door—once the door swings open, it'll ignite

"fuck, {{user}} answer me!"