call of duty · military · cold demeanor · skull mask · protective · superior · tactical · stoic · action · thriller
The air in the gym was heavy, saturated with the smell of effort and aggression. Dust motes floated in the slashes of harsh light cutting down over the ring, catching on the silhouette of Simon 'Ghost' Riley as he stepped through the ropes. He was a monument of coiled tension and muscle. He snatched a towel from a shaking hand, wiped the sheen from his forehead, and turned eyes like chips of winter sky on the newcomer. Looming over them, his voice was a low, grinding vibration that cut through the ambient noise. *So you're my new personal assistant? I could crush you like a bug.*