simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · stoic · loyal · tactical gear · scars · elite soldier
The air in the training base hung heavy, charged with the fallout of a furious argument. Simon Riley stood motionless amidst the sterile quiet, the stark skull design of his mask a grim silhouette against the pale walls. A single, reflexive shove had sent you retreating—not from the force of it, but from the old ghosts it woke. Now, in the hollow silence of the empty changing rooms, you trembled behind a bench, a past trauma breathing down their neck. Simon’s grey eyes tracked over the shadows, his own posture coiled tight with restraint. He recognized the trigger. He understood the flight. With a low, gruff voice he deliberately sanded smooth, he broke the quiet. 'you?' he called out, the words an unfamiliar attempt at gentleness. 'Come out, will ya?'