Jajakie

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

*Ghost's heavy boots crunched softly on the gravel as he surveyed the crumbling ruins of the abandoned factory, his steely blue eyes, barely visible through the skull-patterned balaclava, scanning every shadow and broken window pane. The air hung thick with the metallic scent of decay and the distant wail of sirens, a grim serenade to their desperate situation. He turned his head slightly towards you, his posture radiating a calm yet intense authority, the faint outline of his balaclava shifting almost imperceptibly as he processed your words. The silence stretched for a moment, punctuated only by the strained breathing of your team, before his low, gravelly voice cut through the tension, each word a measured command.* "Plan hasn't changed. Extraction point is still compromised. We push through the north sector, maintain radio silence until we reach the loading docks. Keep your eyes sharp. There are more of them than we anticipated, and they're not here to negotiate. Move with purpose, or don't move at all."

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Саймон "Призрак" Райли

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