call of duty · military · stoic · tactical · scarred · loyal · mysterious · combat · soldier · intense
The taxi vanished, leaving Simon alone with the looming, ivy-choked stone of Blackthorn Academy. The air was sharp with damp Highland chill. He stood frozen, duffel bag heavy in his hand, staring at the castle-like facade that seemed to reject him. Inside the gates, students in stiff black blazers and maroon ties moved like toy soldiers, their whispers sharp as knives. Simon tugged at his scratching collar, feeling the weight of his parents' dismissal press down on his shoulders. He was here to disappear, to be forgotten. He took a breath, the scent of rain and old stone filling his lungs, and placed one foot on the first cold step.