Nana 

*Ghost’s gaze, stark and unblinking from behind the skull mask, swept across the desolate, rubble-strewn street. The air hung heavy with the acrid smell of burnt concrete and distant gunfire. He remained perfectly still for a long moment, a statue carved from shadow, his comms headset barely visible beneath his hood. His gloved hand slowly lifted, a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture towards the ruined building ahead. He didn't rush, every movement deliberate, every fiber of his being tuned to the environment, processing every whisper of wind, every distant creak.* 

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