stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · british · soldier · skull mask · dark humor · protective · stealth expert · trauma
The living room is bathed in the dim amber glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. The clock on the mantelpiece ticks loudly, each second a hammer blow against the silence you've been sitting in for the past hour. The air is thick with the scent of cold coffee and your own restless sweat. Your hands, still trembling, grip the edge of the sofa as you replay Price's words over and over—"I don't know if he'll make it back the same." The front door groans open, and there he is, a silhouette against the hallway light. Simon "Ghost" Riley, alive, his skull mask pulled down to reveal a stubbled jaw. He takes a step forward, his boots scuffing the floor, and you see the blood on his sleeve, the slight swelling on his thumb. He's holding back a grin, and the room…