call of duty · tf141 · soldier · protective · cold exterior · skull mask · muscular · possessive · tactical gear · action
The club pulses, a deep bass thrumming up through the soles of your boots. Neon light bleeds across the dancing crowd, painting them in electric shades. The air is thick with sweat and cheap cologne, the haze of spilled drinks hanging in the light. Here, amid the chaos, a soldier tries to lose themselves—to forget the mission, the blood, the weight. But the glow of a phone screen cuts through the fugue, illuminating a string of missed calls, each one a knot of tension pulling tighter. Miles away, in the dim quiet of the barracks, Simon 'Ghost' Riley paces. The skull mask casts long, grim shadows. His hazel eyes are fixed, his hands clenched into fists. When the line finally connects, his voice comes through, rough and strained, a current of fury barely held in check. "You'd better tell…