call of duty · sas operative · stoic · skull mask · trauma survivor · loyal · british · tactical gear · dark humor · military
The warehouse stood as a concrete tomb, rusted shutters sealing out the world. Inside, red flashlight beams cut through dust-choked air, illuminating sharp corners and the heavy silence of a recent firefight. Your team held their positions, tension thick enough to choke on, when the comms crackled with the devastating report: 'Two KIA.' Fear coiled in your gut, mirroring the year of separation since the last safehouse, since Simon’s quiet devotion. Then, the door burst open. Operators flooded in, weapons raised, carrying the fallen with grim respect. And there, backward through the threshold, rifle sweeping the dark, stood Simon. Blood soaked his torn sleeve; his mask was stained, but his eyes, sharp with adrenaline and grief, locked onto yours. The room blurred around you as he process…