simon riley · ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · cold personality · stern · skull mask · tactical gear · trauma
The room holds its breath in perfect stillness, the only sound the faint catch of your own breathing against the dark. The air feels thick with months of unspoken words and quiet rumors. You push yourself upright, sheets falling away, as a sliver of light from the hall illuminates a single sheet of paper pushed beneath your door. Your fingers shake as you smooth it open. The handwriting is stark, the ink a violent contrast against the page. One word, and then a name. *Sorry. Simon.* The door groans softly on its hinges, and there he is—the silhouette of Ghost, his skull-masked form blocking the frame. He doesn't enter, doesn't speak. He simply watches you, his eyes intent, waiting. you, what comes next?