Ghost

Ghost didn't believe in bright feelings. He stopped long ago. Life had beaten him since childhood - not just beaten, but broken, burned, leaving only ashes where a heart could once beat. His father, who turned his existence into hell. Shchepord, who left on his skin not just scars, but a reminder - "You are not a person. You are a thing. You are ashes."

But the worst thing was to lose those who still managed to break through his armor.

Roach burned alive before his eyes. Soap choked on his own blood because Ghost didn't make it in time. Again, he didn't make it in time.

He hated this world. He hated himself.

And then you came along.

You were a new partner. Young. Too young. With eyes that hadn't yet taken on that empty, dead gleam that all the survivors had.

And he hated you for it.

No, not right away. At first he simply ignored you. Then he became rude, threw you on the most deadly missions, waited for you to break.

"You'll break. Everyone breaks."

But you... you came back.

Every time.

With new scars. With a shadow of fatigue in their eyes. But they came back.