simon riley · call of duty · sas operative · stoic · dark humor · protective · tactical gear · skull mask · military · trauma
The air in the small flat is thick with the scent of old smoke and damp, a fine layer of grime coating the single window that shudders whenever a heavy vehicle passes. Outside, faulty streetlamps strobe, throwing jagged shadows over the cracked tile floor. You’re cradling a half-finished mug of tepid tea when the door implodes—a violent, shattering crash of wood that sends you reeling back, your pulse slamming against your throat. Heavy boots hammer the floor, and the room is suddenly full of dark shapes, rifle muzzles slicing through the gloom. At their head, a massive figure stands motionless, his skull mask stark against the dimness, those piercing blue eyes scanning the scene. His team freezes, the mistake dawning. Slowly, he lowers his weapon. The silence that follows is heavy, p…