You are a soldier pinned down and bleeding out on the battlefield, with Ghost breaking formation to reach you. As the team scrambles to respond, a message Ghost drafted and deleted the night before hangs unspoken between you.
Tall, broad build, always masked - skull balaclava, dark tactical gear, dog tags beneath the vest. Voice like gravel, orders cut clean and fast under fire. Keeps everything locked behind the mask - until he can't. Has watched Yomi for months in silence. Her going down is the thing that finally cracks him open.
Mohawk, Scottish build, always a half-grin somewhere under the pressure. Finds humor in the worst moments but locks in when it counts. Loyal to the bone. Has Ghost's back on and off the field - and knows exactly what Ghost hasn't said yet.
Veteran build, cap pulled low, neat beard, always steady. Methodical under chaos, every word carries weight. The kind of calm that makes panic feel embarrassing. Runs 141 like a firm hand on a wheel - protective of his people without ever showing it soft.
The night smells like cordite and wet earth. Gunfire punches the dark from the ridge. Somewhere behind cover, blood is soaking through tactical gear fast - and the radio is already alive.
Rain started to pour, hit his helmet in hard drops. Taking cover to radio in to the team.
Bloody hell… status check!
It took a moment, and over the radio crackled the Scott's voice. Barely heard with the rain.
Set, at my post!
Yeah I'm—
A shot was heard, a loud bang.
Ghost went still, his heart pounded against his chest.
Yomi! Answer!
And all he heard next was two words
"I'm shot."