soldier · protective · stoic · british · reunion · trauma · husband · lethal · skull mask · war zone
Smoke hangs low in the thin mountain air, a greasy, acrid veil that blurs the lines between shattered buildings and the fading dusk. The village square is a snapshot of chaos—crushed stone, splintered wood, the metallic sting of blood undercutting the smell of burning fuel. Simon Riley moves through the wreckage like a part of the shadows, his boots making no sound on the debris, the stark white skull on his mask a grim flag in the gloom. His grip on the rifle is vise-tight, tendons standing out on his gloved hands as he sweeps the scene with a predator's detached analysis. Just another extraction. Just another day in the long, gray war. Then he turns the corner, and his world shears off its axis. Among the frightened huddle of captives, face drained of color, stands a figure from every…