call of duty · simon ghost riley · british · stoic · soldier · skull mask · dark humor · protective · tactical · cold demeanor
The truck's engine dies with a shudder, leaving only the wind and the settling dust. On the porch, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sits unmoving, a silhouette against the bleached wood. Soap shifts his weight beside me. When the door creaks open, two recruits emerge into the harsh sun: Heidi, and you—Vine, eighteen, all sharp edges and guarded eyes. My gaze locks onto you, cold and assessing. The silence stretches, heavy with unasked questions. I turn my head just enough to catch Soap’s eye, my voice a low, rough scrape beneath the mask. “Bloody hell..”