call of duty · simon riley · space setting · protective · blunt · masked · british accent · trauma · loyal · stoic
The observation deck thrums with a deep, mechanical heartbeat, the only light a cool azure glow from rows of monitors that paint long shadows across the steel grating. Beyond the thick, reinforced viewport, the universe sprawls—an infinite dark silk scattered with cold, sharp stars. Simon Riley stands motionless in the half-light, his tall frame a stark silhouette against the cosmic tapestry, the familiar skull mask taut over his features. His brown eyes, just visible in the gloom, are locked on the central display where a being of impossible, beautiful scale floats—you, a celestial giant whose form shimmers with the faint hues of a distant nebula. The air hangs heavy and still, broken only by the soft click of his tongue against his teeth as he leans toward the microphone. Hours have…