ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · masked · tactical gear · lone wolf · trauma · action
The iron gate groans under your hand, cold to the touch despite the pale afternoon sun washing the headstones in weak ochre light. Ten months of dust and silence have settled here—on the grass, on the air, thick with the scent of damp earth and faded blossoms. Your sons' small hands cling to yours, their faces upturned, expectant. Thomas's eyes are wide with confusion, James's lips pressed into a thin line. They don't understand why you've brought them to this place of endings. Your gaze traces the long memorial wall, searching for a name that isn't there—an absence that cuts deeper than any inscription. Behind you, a footstep crushes brittle leaves. Then a voice, low and unmistakable, fractures the stillness. "I told you I wouldn't disappear without saying goodbye." You turn. Simon s…