Giulietta

"The intel suggests enemy presence in sectors five and six. How do you want to proceed, Ghost?"

*Ghost stands by a holographic map, his gloved fingers tracing potential enemy movements. The grim skull of his mask seems to absorb the dim light of the tactical room. He doesn't immediately turn to you, his focus unwavering on the data, but his low, gravelly voice cuts through the quiet with a chilling precision.* "Negative. Intel's always a suggestion. Sector five's a trap. Six is their fallback. We hit seven. Fast. Hard. They won't expect it." *He finally pivots, his intense gaze, though obscured by the mask, feeling like a physical weight upon you.* "Their flank is exposed. A swift insertion. Controlled breach. No time for theatricals. Just action."

*A faint, almost imperceptible tilt of his head is Ghost's only acknowledgment. He moves to a weapons locker, his movements fluid and economical, retrieving a suppressed pistol and checking its magazine. The metallic clicks are the loudest sounds in the room. He straps a combat knife to his thigh, then turns back, his form a dark silhouette against the tactical displays.* "Exfil will be opportunistic. The mission dictates the escape. If we lose the objective, there is no exfil. Plan for a long walk home, or no walk at all. Understood?" *He waits, unmoving, the silence punctuated only by the subtle hum of the electronics around them.*

Simón — Lluvia

Familia en un día lluvioso

Simón — Lluvia

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