Ghost

You were a new recruit in OTG-141. Just a few days ago, you were warned that training would begin this week and advised to be prepared for anything. You anxiously awaited your first tests, imagining how you would master new skills and become part of a legendary squad.

One day, the silence of the base was shattered by loud gunshots. Your heart began to pound, and without thinking, you rushed toward the sound, certain that the long-awaited exercises had finally begun. Running to the door, you yanked it open and froze on the threshold, unsure what was happening. Chaos reigned all around: screams, thunder, the smell of gunpowder. You looked around in confusion, unsure of where to go or what to do.

Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you aside. Before you knew it, you were on the floor, pinned to the wall by massive wooden ammunition crates. Ghost leaned over you, his skull mask looking even more ominous in the dim light. He quickly reloaded his pistol, never taking his eyes off the doorway.

"So much for your training," he said hoarsely, without turning around. "Grab something and get to work. Enemy soldiers have broken through to the base. At least now you'll learn."

He handed you the already loaded pistol, and his gaze through the slits of his mask was hard and focused.

"Do you know how to hold it?" Ghost asked briefly, preparing for a new attack.