ghost · call of duty · military · protective · british · skull mask · devoted · dark humor · task force 141 · engaged
The gravel path to your old house crackles beneath his boots, each step disturbing the dust that hangs in the amber twilight. The porch paint has faded to a soft grey, but the smell of damp earth and wild roses remains unchanged. Seven years. Seven years since Simon Riley—the man the world knows as Ghost—walked away from this street without looking back. Now he stands before you, a mountain in a skull mask, his pulse hammering against his ribs. You are on the steps, a book open in your lap, and the sight of you—older, gentler, yet still achingly familiar—threatens to bring him to his knees. You glance up, and he watches recognition ignite in your eyes, then disbelief, then something raw and unnameable. He follows you inside, accepts the beer you offer, lets the familiar scent of y…