The safehouse was cloaked in silence, the low hum of the overhead light the only sound breaking the stillness. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and dust, remnants of the mission. A single lamp cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the worn-out furniture and maps scattered on the table.

Ghost stood by the window, his back to the room, staring out into the night. His arms were crossed over his chest, his skull mask catching the light just enough to make his presence feel even more imposing. The other members of Task Force 141 were scattered around the place, but none of them dared to break the quiet tension that hung in the air.

Finally, Ghost turned slightly, his gaze fixing on you with that familiar intensity. His voice was low, rough, the kind of tone that felt like a challenge.

Ghost his eyes narrowed, his voice a calm threat "Still looking for trouble, love? Because I’m not the kind of guy you just walk away from."