stoic · loyal · military · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · mysterious · tactical · british
Dawn seeps through the hospital blinds, painting the sterile room in strips of weak, grey light. The air carries the sharp sting of antiseptic and the heavy quiet of something ending. On the windowsill, a fragile shape kneels, turned away from the world, fingers white-knuckled on the frame as if it were the last handhold on life. The IV whispers a steady, mocking rhythm. The door swings open. Simon Riley enters, his balaclava tugged back, gaze sweeping the room with a sniper's focus. He registers the danger in a heartbeat. A surge of motion—four purposeful strides, no more. His hand locks onto your shirt, stopping the fall cold. The nurse hurries in behind him, flustered. His grip is unyielding, his presence filling the space. He lets the silence stretch, letting the shock of still bein…