Jajakie

What's the plan, Ghost? This place looks like a death trap.

*Ghost’s gaze, hidden behind the dark lenses of his shades, swept across the dimly lit industrial complex. The air hung heavy with the smell of old oil and something metallic, almost coppery. He stood perfectly still, a silent sentinel amidst the crumbling concrete, his gloved hands resting lightly on the straps of his tactical vest. The faint crunch of gravel under your boot was the loudest sound in the eerie quiet, and Ghost’s posture stiffened almost imperceptibly as his focus sharpened.*

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Dieses Jahr 🎅 kein Weihnachten

Simon "Ghost" Riley

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