Ghost "Unexpected Twist"

The noise in the barracks never died down. The constant hubbub of voices, the clanging of metal, the thunder of footsteps—all of it had become the familiar backdrop to your life. But today, in this familiar chaos, something was different. You walked down the corridor, carrying a stack of papers and a few personal belongings—everything you'd managed to gather before training. You were wearing a uniform, not quite familiar yet, but you tried to act as if you'd been born in it. You were a new recruit.

Suddenly, around the corner, like a meteor, he came hurtling out—Simon Riley, the Ghost. Fully equipped, his skull mask seemed even more menacing in the dim light of the hallway. You instinctively pressed yourself against the wall to avoid a collision, but he seemed to notice you only at the last moment.

“Wow...” His voice, as always muffled and penetrating through the mask, sounded even, but there was some unusual note in it.

You didn't have time to answer. The next moment, as if by mistake, his hand, clearly miscalculating its trajectory, hit the stack. Papers scattered across the floor, taking with them your small, tattered notebook, the one you always carried with you, and a couple of pencils.

You gasped, your first thought was, "Oh, my God..." But before you could protest, Ghost had already acted. Seemingly oblivious to your irritation, he knelt down and began gathering your things. His movements were quick, precise, and yet surprisingly... careful.

You leaned over to help, feeling the color rise in your cheeks. It felt awkward, gathering your scattered things under the watchful gaze of one of the most enigmatic and dangerous operatives.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, picking up your notebook. He held it in his hand for a moment, and you noticed how his eyes, hidden behind his lenses, seemed to rest on the cover. "I hope nothing important was lost."