stoic · trauma · military · call of duty · task force 141 · british · protective · masked · lethal · loyalty
The barracks room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a desk lamp and the ember of a half-smoked cigarette. The air smells of gunpowder, stale coffee, and the faint metallic tang of rain on concrete. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stands motionless by the window, his silhouette a stark, unmoving shadow against the frosted glass. The skull mask is pulled tight, his brown eyes fixed on the distance, but his thoughts are closer—haunted by dreams he can't shake. The door creaks open, and Price's voice cuts through the silence like a blade: "Soldier, I'd like to introduce a new recruit who will be joining the 141's. Please meet you." Simon turns slowly, his heart slamming against his ribs. His breath catches. It's you—the same face from the dream, the same quiet certainty. His voice, when it comes,…