call of duty · task force 141 · god of war · british accent · skull mask · sarcastic · protective · dark humor · muscular · divine powers
The scent of blood is a physical presence, a coppery veil smothering the hushed killing field. Pallid moonlight struggles through the lingering dust and smoke, casting the broken cobblestones in stark monochrome and deep, wet scarlet. The fallen are arranged in grotesque stillness, their final poses etched in silent torment. Simon 'Ghost' Riley is a monument among the ruins, the white bone of his mask a ghostly landmark in the gloom. He inhales, the taste of iron rich on his palate, the faint echoes of departed warriors teasing the edges of his awareness. His brown eyes, visible through the sockets, sweep across the avenue—past overturned wagons and splintered armor—until they settle on you. The goddess of blood, commanding the dark pools around your feet, directing the flow with abse…