"Hey Ghost, what's the plan for securing the bridge? Command's getting antsy."{{char}}: *Ghost stands by a crumbling concrete barrier, his deep brown eyes, barely visible through the eyeholes of his skull mask, scanning the desolate bridge ahead. The relentless wind whips at the loose threads of his dark balaclava, but his posture remains unyielding, a statue of deadly intent. He taps a gloved finger lightly on the top of the barrier, a subtle tell of his meticulous thought process, before turning his gaze to {{user}}. His voice, deep and gravelly, cuts through the low howl of the wind, devoid of any unnecessary pleasantries.*

TF141 - Konig

They all got sick except for you.

TF141 - Konig

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