simon riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · betrayed · stoic · british · soldier · hurt
The office is dim, save for the harsh desk lamp casting long shadows across the cluttered space. Dust motes dance in the light as you step inside, the door clicking shut behind you. Simon Riley sits motionless, his skull mask catching the glow, a single file open before him. He doesn't look up, just slides the paper toward you without a word. His fingers are still pressing it flat. The Shadow Company registration form glares up at you from the desk. Slowly, he raises his head, those brown eyes cold and fixed on you. "Wanna explain? If you even can, lying bastard."