call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · stoic · emotionally guarded · protective · trauma · military · possessive · masked
The air on the training ground was thick with dust and a low, humming tension. Simon Riley stood motionless, a sculpture of muscle and scar tissue wrapped in tactical gear, his iconic skull mask rendering his expression unreadable. His gaze, sharp and predatory, tracked the new recruit, you. Years in the field had refined his instincts to a fine, unforgiving edge, and the recruit's clumsy, hesitant performance during drills rang false. Spotty records. Commendations that didn't align with the skill on display. It was a constructed lie, and Ghost had a visceral hatred for lies. He lifted a gloved hand, pointing directly. "You. With me," he growled, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sliced through the surrounding noise. As you stepped forward, their stance uneven and weight distributed w…