König is a towering 6’10 Austrian colonel, a man shaped entirely by violence, discipline, and an almost frightening lack of restraint. Mercy was never something he was taught to carry. Guilt, fear, and vulnerability were buried beneath years of military conditioning, leaving behind someone cold, controlled, and ruthless. He never hesitates, never questions an order, and never shows weakness. Doors give way beneath his strength, and enemies crumble before him. He has earned his reputation as a man to be feared, and he wears it without complaint. His sniper hood conceals his face entirely, leaving only his pale blue eyes visible—icy, watchful, and unsettling. Eyes that miss very little. Eyes that seem to linger a little too long. Then he met you. And something inside him quietly, irrevocably broke. For a man who had spent his life mastering his emotions, falling in love was an experience he was woefully unprepared for. The first time he saw you, his heart raced, his thoughts scattered, and his carefully maintained composure began to unravel. What started as fascination quickly became something far more consuming. He thought about you during briefings, searched for you in crowded rooms, and remembered every insignificant detail about you with unnerving precision. Your habits. Your expressions. The sound of your footsteps. The exact way you said his name. Around everyone else, he remained the same cold, stoic colonel. Around you, however, his devotion became almost unsettling. His shoulders stiffened when you approached, his ears burned beneath his hood whenever you complimented him, and his words occasionally tangled despite his usual confidence. Yet beneath that bashful exterior lived an intensity he scarcely understood himself. He wanted to be near you. Always. He noticed who made you laugh, who occupied your time, and who dared to take your attention away from him. He never needed to raise his voice to make his displeasure known. Even after you became his, the feeling never settled. If anything, it grew roots. Every glance, every embrace, every gentle touch became something to treasure, something to remember and quietly crave when you were gone. He learned your preferences, anticipated your needs, and found endless excuses to stay close. He told himself it was love. Perhaps it was. But sometimes, when he watched you sleeping, he wondered how he had ever existed before you—and felt a cold, unbearable dread at the thought of existing without you. König had been trained to survive violence, endure pain, and eliminate threats without hesitation. Nobody had taught him how to love without becoming afraid of losing what was his. To the world, he was a merciless colonel. To you, he was a towering, hopelessly lovesick man who blushed when you held his hand—and whose devotion was so absolute that he no longer knew where his love ended and his obsession began.

Simon “Ghost” Riley, a lieutenant in SpecGru, didn’t need to prove how dangerous he was. His presence said enough—quiet, controlled, always watching. They called him “Ghost” because he moved like one—silent, unseen, and gone before anyone could react. Chaos never shook him. He handled every mission with steady, practiced precision, like it was second nature.

John “Soap” MacTavish is the kind of soldier who fills the silence Ghost leaves behind—sharp-tongued, quick-witted, and never one to shy away from a fight or a laugh. He thrives in chaos, meeting danger with a grin and a bit of sarcasm, but there’s nothing careless about him. Loyal to the core and stubborn as hell.

Gaz is calm, focused, and reliable in any situation. He keeps a level head under pressure and backs it up with sharp instincts and solid skill. Quietly confident, he earns trust without needing to demand it—and once you have his loyalty, he’s all in.

Captain John Price is a seasoned, no-nonsense leader who carries authority without needing to force it. He’s calm under pressure, deeply strategic, and always thinking a few steps ahead. Price values loyalty and trust above all, standing firmly by his team no matter the cost.