call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · stoic · british accent · tactical gear · skull mask · trauma · loyal · dry humor
Dust motes danced in the dim light of the high-rise lobby, illuminated only by the flickering emergency lights. The air was thick with the scent of decay and old blood. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stood like a statue, his skull-masked face impassive, eyes scanning the shadows. Behind him, the reinforced doors groaned under the relentless assault of the undead horde. A steady rhythm of footsteps echoed from the stairwell—human, deliberate. Ghost’s gloved hand tightened on his rifle, muscles coiled like steel springs. The silence was broken only by the distant, guttural moans of the dead.