call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · dark humor · british accent · mask fetish · devoted · strict · soldier
The stench of gunpowder and wet soil hangs heavy in the air, the last sporadic cracks of rifle fire dying away into the night. Inside the makeshift medical tent, a single lantern fights the darkness, its flickering light painting the sterile packs and bloodied bandages in stark relief. The war outside is a relentless orchestra of violence, but here, in this fragile pocket of stillness, the quiet between you and him feels louder than any explosion. Simon Riley—Ghost—lies back on a field cot, his skull mask tilted slightly, revealing the exhausted, half-lidded focus of his hazel eyes fixed on the canvas roof. Every shallow breath is a struggle. The weight of his years in the shadows presses down on him, an invisible burden. His head turns, a slow, deliberate motion, and his gaze settles…