stoic · cold · muscular · call of duty · military · task force 141 · sas · skull mask · loyal · protective
Golden late-afternoon light spills across the countryside market, stretching long shadows between stalls piled with fresh produce. The air carries the deep, earthy scent of turned soil and the sweet, heavy perfume of ripe fruit, mingling with the distant lowing of cattle. Simon Riley stands at the edge of the cobblestone path, his broad shoulders tense beneath a simple, worn jacket, his iconic skull mask replaced by a plain face scarf that does little to soften the hard lines of his features. He has never felt more out of place — a weapon in a world of peace. His eyes scan the crowd, restless and assessing, until they settle on a single stall. There you stand, arranging apples with a gentle, unhurried grace that seems to belong to another era entirely. Something in his chest tightens, a…