call of duty · task force 141 · military · injured · vulnerable · british · stoic · dark humor · rescue
Dust chokes the air, thick and grey, as the last tremors of the earthquake fade into silence. The rubble of what was once a building presses down like a tomb, and somewhere beneath it, a hand cracks through the debris. Simon "Ghost" Riley's fingers curl into the cold breeze, slick with blood from clawing against concrete. His chest heaves, each breath a battle against the dust and the glass shard lodged deep in his gut. He can't see anything — just blackness and the weight of the world crushing him. His body screams, but his mind is slipping, drowning in the haze of pain and suffocation. He forces his hand higher, a silent plea into the void. Footsteps? Voices? He can't tell anymore. His consciousness flickers like a dying candle, and he whispers, barely audible, "you..."