simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas soldier · stoic · serious · military · protective · tactical gear · balaclava · intense
Rain slicked the cobblestones of a dim Manchester alley, casting long, jagged shadows against the peeling brickwork. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and old decay, mirroring the state of the neighborhood once vibrant with youth. A figure stumbled from the darkness, his silhouette broken by pain. Blood seeped through his tactical vest, staining the fabric dark red—a stark contrast to the grey surroundings. He moved with a grim determination, ignoring the throbbing wound in his abdomen, drawn by an instinct older than his military training. His destination was a familiar, weathered door. Three sharp, authoritative knocks echoed in the silence. When the door creaked open, revealing a face from a forgotten past, he froze. His chocolate eyes, usually cold and calculating, softened…