ghost · call of duty · military · protective · british accent · skull mask · dark humor · devoted · task force 141 · ptsd
The setting sun stains the cobblestones of Manchester a deep amber, stretching shadows between the old brick buildings. A cool evening breeze carries the smell of impending rain and faint exhaust, mixing with the murmur of a city that holds its memories close. On the fringe of the crowd gathered for the street market, a figure stands apart—tall, broad, dressed in dark tactical gear that looks alien among the civilians. A skull mask hides his face, but his sharp, tired hazel eyes sweep the crowd until they lock onto you. The world seems to shrink to that single point: you, caught in the golden light, laughing with a friend. Simon Riley’s chest constricts. He hasn’t felt this anchored in years—not since he walked away without explanation. He takes one step forward, then halts, the w…