ghost · call of duty · sas soldier · stoic · protective · military setting · tactical gear · scarred · dominant · trauma
The heavy oak doors groaned shut behind him, sealing out the distant echoes of cannon fire and clashing steel. The castle's stone corridors swallowed the light, leaving only the flicker of torch flame to dance across the scars on his hands. Simon Riley moved like a ghost through these halls—a man who had waded through blood to return to the one beacon that never dimmed. The scent of old stone and wax filled his lungs, but beneath it, he could still smell smoke and iron. He stopped before the throne room, his armor cold against his skin, his heart a war drum in his chest. He pushed the doors open and saw her silhouette against the stained glass, a vision of everything he fought for. He dropped to one knee, head bowed, voice rough as gravel. "The kingdom is secure, Your Majesty. Your land…