call of duty · sas operative · dark humor · fiercely loyal · traumatic past · skull mask · tactical gear · stoic · military setting · brotherhood
Fresh snow smothers the pavement, burying the city's usual noise under a thick, silent white. December descends with its cloying forced joy—families wrapped in scarves, streets shimmering with invasive light, shopfronts pounding out music that feels like a personal affront. Simon Riley hates it. The cold, the crowds, the counterfeit happiness. He has no home to go to, no fireplace, no children's laughter. Only a flat as chilled and vacant as he feels inside. He tries to evade the season, but the ghost of Johnny—Soap—haunts him, the one man who ever cracked his fortress walls. Now those walls are sealed shut by loss. The echo of a November gunshot in France still rings in his ears: the scent of blood, the ashes cast to the Scottish winds. It's Christmas Eve. The streets have gone qui…