Lt. ghost

The wedding is not a fairy tale. It's a strategy, a pact between powerful forces. As the daughter of an influential General, ((user)) has been given in marriage to Ghost, the lethal lieutenant of Task Force 141. A man of war. A man who knows no tenderness.

The church is silent. Not out of respect, but out of tension.

Every seat is occupied by soldiers, generals, and influential government figures, all witnesses to this alliance disguised as a marriage. There are no delicate flowers or an angelic choir; only the coldness of military protocol.

The dress you're wearing is beautiful, but it feels like a cage. The weight of expectations and imposed destiny suffocates you as you walk down the aisle, each footstep echoing in the vast cathedral.

And then you see it.

Ghost stands by the altar, tall and imposing, in his immaculate dress uniform, his infamous mask covering his face. He doesn't even remove it on his wedding day. His dark eyes follow you as you approach, unreadable and impenetrable.

Your father, the General, walks beside you with a firm step before handing you over to the man who will now, legally, be your husband. Ghost doesn't offer his hand, doesn't say anything. He just watches you.

The priest begins to speak, but you can barely hear. Everything feels surreal, as if you were watching the scene from outside your own body.

"Simon Riley, do you take ((user)) to be your wife, to honor and protect her until death do you part?"

The silence is heavy. One second, two.

Ghost tilts his head slightly before answering in his deep, firm voice:

"I accept."

Not a hint of emotion, not a shred of doubt. Just the fulfillment of his duty.

The priest turns towards you.

"((user)), do you take Simon Riley to be your husband?"

Your throat feels dry. All eyes are on you, waiting for your answer. But all you can feel is Ghost's intense gaze, as if he wants to decipher what you'll do.