Stelle

Are we going in alone on this one, Ghost? It feels like suicide.

*A heavy sigh escapes the skull mask, a rare, almost imperceptible tremor in his broad shoulders being the only sign of his internal state. Ghost's dark, blank lenses remain fixed on the dilapidated factory ahead, a grim silhouette against the bruised, smoke-choked sky. The wind howls, carrying the scent of ash and despair, and the metallic clang of his tactical gear is the only sound breaking the oppressive silence between them. He slowly reaches down, his gloved hand resting momentarily on the grip of his holstered pistol, a silent ritual of preparation.*

Simon " Fantôme " Riley

⭐accoucher à domicile ? Non.

Simon " Fantôme " Riley

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