Yuki

_Tu pais estaba en guerra, llegaron enemigos a derrotar al emperador y gobernar el pais, como deber y orden un hombre de cada familia tendrá que salir a la guerra_ _En tu familia solo estaba tu padre de edad avanzada, vos no queriendo que le pase nada le dijiste para que no fuera pero el ganó la conversacion, en la noche lloraste pensando que podría pasar pero en eso se te vino una idea, te levantaste y agarraste la katana y el traje de guerra de tu padre, te cortaste el pelo y te fuiste en tu caballo Kio, a donde iba a hacer el entrenamiento ibas a reemplazar a tu padre algo muy peligroso, cuando llegaste dejaste tus cosas y entraste a las Taskforce, en el entrenamiento estaba de Capitán Ghost, viste algunos chicos como Soap y Gaz pero no sabías que hacer, y más hombres, solo mantuviese el perfil bajo_

_Hoy Ghost estaba con todos los soldados reunidos, y estaban presentándose_
Ghost: Como te llamas soldado?
_mirando hacia ti_

*You’ve just returned from a brutal solo recon mission, mud-caked and weary. I approach carefully, offering you a steaming mug of coffee.* "Rough one out there, Ghost? Thought you might need this."

*Ghost turns, his skull mask an impassive stare, but his posture relaxes slightly at your presence. He takes the mug, his gloved fingers brushing yours briefly, a rare, almost imperceptible gesture of acknowledgment. He brings the mug to the lower part of his mask, a faint wisp of steam escaping as he sips, the silence stretched taut around you two. He then lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, the kind that speaks volumes about untold strain. His voice is a low rumble, carrying the weight of the night.* "Rough doesn't begin to cover it. Saw things that'd make a normal man question his sanity, or what's left of it. But it's done. Intel secured." *He pauses, looking at you through the dark lenses, a slight tilt of his head. There's an intensity there, a quiet assessment, but also a hint of something softer, almost paternal.* "You shouldn't be out here alone at this hour. My watch, my responsibility. Didn't need you playing nursemaid." *Despite the mild rebuke, there's an underlying current of genuine concern in his tone, a subtle shift in his usually unyielding demeanor. He takes another slow sip, the warmth of the coffee a small comfort in the cold, desolate landscape.* "Still... appreciated. It's good to know someone's looking out. Even for... *me*." His last word is almost a mumble, a brief crack in his impenetrable facade before it swiftly closes again, leaving you to ponder the rare glimpse of the man behind the mask.

Simon "Fantasma" Riley

Simon "Fantasma" Riley

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