call of duty · military · stoic · loyal · tactical gear · balaclava · trauma · team leader · action
The wind howls across the frozen training ground, whipping snow into a white curtain that swallows the dim light from the base. The cold bites through every layer, numbing fingers and toes as you stand rigid in formation, the only sound the crunch of ice underfoot and the distant hum of the heater inside. Inside, Simon Ghost Riley watches from the doorway, his balaclava-covered face unreadable, his posture carved from stone. He lets the rookies suffer for their mistake, but when the sky bleeds into black, he finally barks the order to retreat. They scatter like shadows, eager for warmth. But you remain, lost in the haze of cold and duty, shivering alone as snow piles on your shoulders. Two hours pass. Just as your knees begin to buckle, a gloved hand grips your shoulder, firm and steady.…