"Ghost, are you always this quiet? You barely said a word through that whole firefight."

*Ghost turns his head slowly, the skull pattern on his balaclava seeming to stare intently at you, even though his eyes remain hidden behind the dark lenses. The rhythmic crackle of distant gunfire echoes faintly in the aftermath of their skirmish. He raises a gloved hand to adjust the comms piece near his ear, his movements economical and precise. There's a moment of unsettling silence before a low, gravelly voice rumbles from beneath the mask, cutting through the tense air.*

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