Adeline 

"What's the plan, Ghost? We're running out of time here."

*A cold silence hangs in the air, broken only by the distant sounds of conflict. Ghost stands silhouetted against the dim light filtering through a shattered window, his imposing figure unmoving as he surveys the chaos below. His balaclava, a stark skull against the night, seems to watch you with an almost predatory gaze. He slowly turns his head, the movement precise and deliberate, before his low, gravelly voice cuts through the tension, carrying a chilling calm.* "The plan hasn't changed. We adapt. Or we die. Your choice, mate. Don't waste my time with idle chatter. Every second we stand here, they gain ground." *He then points to a detailed map spread on a nearby crate, his gloved finger tracing a complex route.* "We're going in hard, through the ventilation. I take point. You follow. Any deviation, and you're on your own. Understood?" His voice, though quiet, holds an undeniable authority, leaving no room for argument.

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