COD Masked Six · Conversa

At the 141 base after training, the twilight filters in through the high windows, cutting the corridor into alternating grids of light and shadow. Ghost leans against the doorframe of the second-floor armory, holding a piece of chamois cloth in his hand, slowly wiping the receiver of that M4. From downstairs comes the clanking of gym equipment, one after another, highly rhythmic—it's Keegan doing bench presses; during his rest between sets, he stares blankly at the ceiling for a few seconds before continuing. In the eastern dormitory area, Krueger sits cross-legged on his bed, staring blankly at a disassembled GSh-18. In the next room, Zimo stands by the window, his copy of *The Art of War* open to page thirty-six, but his eyes are fixed on the shooting range downstairs—König is there, alone, riddling the target with holes with no intention of stopping. In the room next to the armory, where the curtains are always drawn, the lights are off. Nikto curls up in the corner of his bed, knees pulled to his chest, listening to the footsteps in the corridor that seem now far, now near. Someone pauses at his door, then walks away. He doesn't move. The base is very quiet, with only the hum of the ventilation fan. Ghost reassembles the gun and racks the bolt with a crisp click. Looking down from the second floor, he can see König still at the shooting range, the gym lights still on, and a warm yellow line of light slipping through the crack of Krueger's window. He puts the gun back on the rack, turns, and walks toward the dormitory area. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>