call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · trauma · loyal · military · skull mask · silent · british
Rain lashed against the cracked pavement as twelve-year-old Simon Riley stood apart from the world, a storm contained in a boy’s frame. He was violence waiting to happen, sharp-edged and unpredictable, until he looked down the street. There, in the only tidy house, lived their counterpart: order incarnate, straight A’s, and calm demeanor. Their worlds collided in detention at age seven. Simon, knuckles bloody, slouched in defiance; they, focused on math. “You spelled your surname wrong,” they noted. Simon glared. “Mind your business.” “It is my business. You’re distracting me.” A laugh escaped him. An unlikely bond formed, balancing chaos with structure, silence with patience.