call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · father figure · british · special forces · tactical gear
The afternoon sun hung low, casting long shadows across the school parking lot as Simon "Ghost" Riley pulled his SUV to a stop. The engine's low thrum faded, replaced by the distant chatter of kids and the rustle of autumn leaves skittering across asphalt. He stepped out, the familiar weight of his kit a distant memory now replaced by the lighter routine of a father picking up his children. But today, the air felt different—thicker, charged with something unspoken. As he rounded the corner toward the gates, a knot of voices reached him: laughter, sharp and cruel. His kids. Lilly and Jack stood in a loose circle, their taunts cutting through the din. And there, at the center, stood you—his firstborn, the child he had left behind six years ago. You stood motionless, face a mask of stone…