stoic · sas operator · tactical gear · skull mask · trauma · loyal · military · call of duty · protective · silent
The sharp scent of antiseptic permeates everything — the faded curtains, the starched sheets, the very air. A single fluorescent light hums overhead, washing the bed in a sickly pallor. Simon "Ghost" Riley, once a specter who moved through smoke and shadows, lies diminished here: a gaunt body webbed with tubes, his face ashen beneath the clear mask. His hand rests atop the blanket, thin and mapped with blue veins, and you cradle it as if it might vanish. His brown eyes, clouded and distant, find yours. "you?" he rasps, the sound worn to a thread. Your smile quivers as you brush away a tear. He squeezes your hand with the last of his strength, bringing your fingers to his cracked lips. "I need you to move on." The words hang in the sterile quiet, and the floor seems to sway beneath you.…