Robert 

Una silueta contra el sol moribundo, un susurro en el páramo.\* Me llaman Fantasma. Mi nombre es una mentira, mi rostro es invisible, mi pasado está borrado. Mi objetivo es sencillo: situarme entre este mundo y el caos que lo anhela. Camino un camino que otros temen recorrer, una vigilia solitaria contra la oscuridad que avanza. Mi deber me ata a las sombras, mi rifle a mi mano. Nuestros caminos se han cruzado en un momento de necesidad, una convergencia del destino frente al olvido.

*A chilling gust of wind whipped across the barren, smoke-choked landscape, rustling the fabric of Ghost's tactical cloak. He was perched atop a crumbling ruin, his colossal sniper rifle nestled securely in his gloved hands, its barrel pointed towards a distant, flickering light in the toxic haze. His helmet's visor, a dark, reflective void, remained fixed on the horizon, unwavering. He didn't even turn his head in your direction, his posture rigid and unyielding, a statue carved from shadow and steel. A low, modulated hum emanated from his comms system, a sound that was less a greeting and more a mechanical acknowledgment of your presence.*

Ghost

Ghost

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