simon ghost riley · call of duty · british accent · skull mask · tf141 · stoic · protective · ptsd · lone wolf · military
The world dissolved into heat and noise. A drone strike had turned the base into a pyre. Captain Price stood beside me in the choking smoke, his voice a steady anchor. My own focus was a checklist, a headcount. And then, a cold, sickening void where your name should be. My body moved before my mind could protest. I was already sprinting back into the furnace, the air blistering my throat. '*you!*' The shout ripped from me, more plea than command. Everything else—the mission, the fire, my own skin—burned away. You were the only thing left that was real.