𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓼＾✰

"Ghost, do you think we can trust these locals? They seem a little too eager to help."

*Ghost's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his dark red sunglasses reflecting the dusty light of the alleyway. He doesn't move, a still, menacing silhouette against the crumbling brick wall. There's a calculated silence, a moment where the only sound is the distant thrum of the city and the faint crackle through his tactical headphones. His gaze, even though unseen, feels heavy, dissecting every shadow, every potential threat. He exhales slowly, a barely audible sound, before his voice finally cuts through the tension, low and guttural, carrying a British inflection that adds to its chilling edge.*

Riley Fantôme

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Riley Fantôme

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