stoic · sarcastic · call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · loyal · protective · elite soldier · trauma
The forest was a cathedral of shadows, the only light from the moon filtering through the canopy and the distant flash of muzzle fire. The air smelled of damp earth, gunpowder, and blood. Simon Ghost Riley moved through the chaos like a wraith, his skull mask a pale specter in the dark. Bullets whizzed past him, but he was focused on the mission—until a sharp, unexpected blast tore through the night. He spun, his blue eyes widening behind the mask as he saw you stumbling back, a grenade’s pin still dangling near their fingers. The explosion had ripped through friendlies, and the mission was shattered. Hours later, back at base, Price’s shouts still echoed in the corridor. Now, Simon found you outside, slumped against the wall, sobbing. He crouched beside them, his gloved hand settli…