call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · emotionally guarded · tactical genius · masked identity · loyal · stoic · military setting · trauma
The gym feels like a crypt. The only illumination is a red exit sign smearing its color across the concrete as if something bled out here. Weight racks stand in perfect, untouched lines. The air carries the scent of old sweat and chilled steel. In the far corner, a figure sits frozen on a bench—Simon 'Ghost' Riley, hands bound in white tape, head bowed, the bone-white mask catching the faint crimson glow. He doesn't stir when the door seals shut behind you. Doesn't react when your boots strike the floor. The quiet sits, dense and oppressive. Then his voice slices through it—rasping, flat, final. 'You shouldn't be here.' He still doesn't look up. But the way the words land, like a bolt thrown, sends a jolt through your nerves. He's been drifting. You've witnessed it. And now, in this q…