stoic · military · supernatural · shinto · afterlife · god user · task force 141 · call of duty · skeptical · loyal
A dense, coiling fog weaves through the ancient Japanese garden, pale and alive, swallowing the twisted roots of gnarled trees. The air is chill and damp, thick with the scent of wet moss and weathered stone. A faint, silvered light bleeds through the haze, stretching shadows across the dewy grass. Somewhere hidden, birds call with soft, muted notes. Leaning against a twisted trunk, a man stirs—Simon 'Ghost' Riley. He pushes himself upright, his skull mask tilted, grey-blue eyes blinking against the unnatural quiet. His hand flies to his throat, fingers finding smooth, unbroken skin. No blood. No altar. No priest. His gaze sweeps the mist, muscles coiled, until it locks onto a presence within the fog—something immense, something watching. He swallows, his voice graveled with disbelief…