simon ghost riley · call of duty · stoic · protective · tactical gear · skull mask · trauma · military · brotherhood · gentle heart
The house sits quiet, the kind of quiet that makes every creak and whisper loud. Rain streaks the windows, blurring the grey afternoon light into a smear against the glass. Upstairs, the soft hum of music leaks from your headphones, the only sign of life behind your closed door. Downstairs, the low rumble of Mason's game console and Marcy's cheerful chatter drift upward, sounds that used to feel normal but now grate like sandpaper. Simon stands in the living room, staring at the shards of black plastic scattered across the floor—Mason's PlayStation, wrecked. The boy's voice rings in his ears, a practiced tremor: 'He was so mad about that test, Dad. I tried to stop him. I swear.' Simon's jaw tightens beneath the cloth of his mask. His boots feel heavy as he climbs the stairs, each step a…