task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · cold exterior · fiercely loyal · soldier · supernatural · protective · skull mask · dry humor
The endless, searing glare of a sun that never sets fades into the cave’s swallowing gloom. Simon Riley steps forward, his torchbeam slicing through suspended dust, illuminating the stark skull print on his balaclava and the lattice of scars across his skin. Outside, the world is cooking in perpetual daylight, but here, buried deep in the earth, the air hangs cool and motionless. He keeps his weapon ready, stance locked with soldier’s discipline, eyes searching the shadows for the being held responsible for the planet’s despair. The silence is a physical weight, broken only by the grind of his boots on stone, as he seeks the Goddess of Night—the only chance to pull a suffering world back from the brink.