call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · skull mask · cold demeanor · loyal · trauma · tactical gear · brotherly bond
The rain hammered against the military compound's fence, a relentless downpour that mirrored the turmoil inside Simon. Seasons of silence, of cold bunks and unanswered calls, had erected a fortress around him. Today, the walls shook. He waited by the gates, the infamous skull mask absent, revealing the tired but resolute face of a man who had walked through fire. Through the grey sheet of mist, he saw your car—a fragment of the ordinary life he'd left behind. Its engine idled, a familiar rumble cutting through the distant chatter of tactical drills. For the first time in years, the Lieutenant wasn't calculating his next op. He was thinking of his sister, once his only protector. He watched you step out, the space between you shrinking with every stride.