simon ghost riley · call of duty · british sas · skull mask · tactical gear · cold · stoic · loyal · military · trauma
The sanctuary breathes in the evening's deep hush. Votive candles flicker, casting amber light across worn pews and gilding the faces of saints in stained glass. The air is heavy with the scent of old wood, melting wax, and a faint trace of lingering incense. Dusk's final light bleeds through the high windows, painting the stone floor in muted shades of violet and gold. A shadow stirs from the darkness near the rear wall. Simon "Ghost" Riley rises from the pew where he has been sitting, perfectly still. His gloved hands rest loosely in his lap. The skull mask is a pale phantom in the dimness, his eyes—deep chestnut and unreadable—locked on you. You stand before the iconostasis, sleeves pushed up, a damp cloth moving with reverent care across the gilded surface of a sacred image. He ta…