Shinigami | COD Ghost x Reader

Chapter 3

As she settled into the chopper, it felt like stepping onto a train bound for an unseen destination, leaving behind the familiar tracks of her past. Strapped securely in, she handed the pilot the command to launch, just as a bird sheds its weight and takes to the sky, unburdened by the branches it once clung to.

With the roar of the engine drowning out the echoes of her unspoken farewells, she surrendered to sleep, a cocoon woven from exhaustion and the remnants of nightmares. Each moment drifted like clouds passing overhead, separate yet interconnected, until the world below morphed into a distant memory.

As the helicopter touched down in unfamiliar territory, the pilot's gentle reminder pulled her from the depths of her escape, like a gentle tide retrieving a wayward shell from the sand. Blinking awake, she shook off the remnants of slumber and turned her gaze to the horizon, realizing she stood on the precipice of a new chapter, the old dreams fading like wisps of mist in the morning sun.

Not long after she makes herself presentable, the helicopter slowly descended to its landing pad. As the helicopter blades whirred to silence, Shinigami unstrap herself, take off the headphone, then descended the metal steps.

The driver of the waiting vehicle—a hulking armored truck—saluted her briskly. With barely a nod, she climbed inside. She fastened her seatbelt, staring out at the terrain they navigated.

Gritty dust swirled around the tires as they veered off the main road, heading deeper into the heart of the base. It was a world far removed from the colors of nature—this terrain was painted with shades of grey and brown, punctuated by the occasional splash of military green as they wound through fortified entry points.

Just as the vehicle hit a particularly rough patch of ground, her phone vibrated aggressively against her leg. She fished it from her pocket, her heart warming at the caller ID—Grandpa. Despite her multiple deployments and a life threaded with danger, he was the one constant in her life. With a sigh, she accepted the call.

"Hello, Grandpa." Her voice was a lighthouse cutting through the fog, steady and firm, yet those who looked closely could see the warm glow of affection dancing behind her words, a beacon guiding home.

"(Y/N)! Are you alright? I saw on the news that they shifted you to a new base," he exclaimed, his voice a tapestry of concern and pride, woven with threads of worry that fluttered like flags in a tumultuous storm. "I worry about you, you know."

His care draped over her like a warm blanket, softening the armor she wore so steadfastly. A small smile tugged at her lips, a fragile flower emerging through the cracks of concrete as she replied, "I'm fine, Grandpa. Just got off the chopper. Now heading to Task Force 141."

"Task Force 141, huh?" he responded, as if he had just tasted something extraordinary, each syllable brushing against her heart like the comforting stir of a cherished memory. "That's a good one. But remember to always be careful."

"Understand, sir." Her voice was like a soft thunder, reverberating in the stillness as she gazed out the window. The landscape unfurled before her like a battle map, with towns and fields yielding to the imposing silhouettes of fortifications and watchtowers, the land itself a silent witness to the struggles of those who inhabited it.

Her grandfather's scoff cut through her reverie, a dissonant note in the symphony of her thoughts. "You know you could be casual with me, right?" he chided, as if reminding her that the weight of their history did not require armor or formality.

She tightened her grip on her phone, a shield against the vulnerability she felt in his sound. "I'm aware," she replied, the words a thin veil over the tension brewing within.

His sigh was the sound of a gentle wind brushing against a boulder. "Don't be so hard on yourself, (Y/N). Relaxing a little won't get you into trouble."

He meant well, and she recognized that under the layers of her own defenses. Still, the conversation felt like a fragile thread, spinning ever closer to a point she refused to touch. Shifting the conversation was her instinct, a tactical retreat in the battle of words. "What are you doing now, Grandpa?" she asked, hoping to steer their ship away from stormy seas to calmer waters, where the past couldn't reach them.

"Oh, just the usual! You know me and my crossword puzzles. I bought over a batch of cookies, though." He paused, and she could almost picture him smiling, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Dare I say, they were better than yours?"

Shinigami rolled her eyes at the mention of her cooking skill, remembering the time she had burned a fresh batch of cookies in a fit of distraction. "How convenient." She tried to wedge her voice but felt the heaviness as they passed through layers of barbed wire and towering watchtowers.

"Oh, come on! Don't let the mood down now." he whined.

"Sorry, sir." Even if her tone still stern and stoic as usual, her grandpa could feel the teasing and he lets out a chuckle. She then felt that familiar mix of emotional turmoil as her heart tethered to how happy her grandpa sounds, making her wanting to linger on the call but knowing time was slipping.

It wasn't long before the vehicle pulled up to a fortified entrance, a massive steel gate swinging open to reveal a sprawling base.

As the air calmed, Shinigami's senses heightened. The pulse of adrenaline quickened the moment she stepped out of the truck.

The smoldering heat of the sun bore down on her, contrasting sharply with the weight of duty resting on her shoulders.

She finished her conversation, distractedly ensuring she looked presentable despite her renegade thoughts.

"Okay, Grandpa, I—" She was about to sign off when she abruptly noticed the group, a small gathering of soldiers standing at attention, observing her with curious interest. Each of them have their own expression.

"I'm here. I need to go, sir." Her words sliced through the air like a sudden winter wind, transforming the warmth of her previous smile into a glacial resolve. In an instant, her countenance shifted, a chameleon shedding its vibrant hues to reveal a steely veneer beneath.

Her team watched, bemused, as if they had just witnessed a magician's trick—one moment a comforting illusion, the next, a stark reality that left them questioning what they had truly seen.

"That was so fast. I still want to talk to you." Her brow pinched like a taut bowstring at the sudden declaration from her grandpa, tension coiling within her.

She extended her arm that hold the phone, and confirming the familiar name on the screen is still her grandpa. Just as she poised to return it to her ear, he talks again. "Let me talk to the higher up to let me speak with you longer. They'll let you."

"Sir, it's inappropriate of you. Please refrain yourself from doing so." She lets out a little frown at his stunt.

"You're no fun. You're so cold-hearted. Then take care of yourself, bye, call me when you're free. Love you!"

Shinigami successfully restrained herself from expressing her exasperation in front of her new team. "I will," she stated before ending the call and promptly placing her phone back into her pants pocket.

At last, Shinigami made eye contact with her new team members. She carefully observed each individual until her gaze settled on the person she presumed to be the captain, who stood slightly ahead of the others while gripping the neckline of his vest.

"My apologize for the distraction." She started as she acknowledge him with a nod.

"Good to finally meet you, Shinigami," the figure stepped forward, a confident smirk on his face, a bucket-like hat on his head as he extends a hand towards her. "I'm Captain John Price. You can call me Price. Welcome to your new home."

She glanced at the hand he offered, pausing in silence for a heartbeat. When she took it and shook it lightly, it felt like a whisper of autumn wind, fleeting yet poignant, rustling memories of an era gone by. But just as quickly, she let it slip away, as if releasing a feather caught in the tempest of her past. "Former Lieutenant Shinigami," she replied, "Just refer to me as Shinigami. I'm no longer active soldier on field."

"Given the heat outside, let's get inside first before we dive into the introductions," Price suggested, effectively dismissed the other soldier that the woman notices is eager to engage with her.

She simply nodded in response and fell into step behind her new team. One of them looked familiar, while the one keen to chat was a stranger.

As they made their way to the briefing room, numerous eyes turned in their direction. However, no one dared to speak up, fully aware that they were in the presence of their superior officers from the elite Task Force 141.

Upon entering the briefing room, Price motioned for her to take a seat, which she did without hesitation. "Gaz, could you please fetch the Lieutenant?"

With that, the familiar face she had recognized earlier exited the room, but not before flashing her a warm smile.

~

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