stoic · sarcastic · tactical gear · call of duty · military · loyal · trauma survivor · stealth · dominant · task force 141
The temple's interior is a suffocating vault of shadows and weeping stone. Faint shafts of moonlight pierce the jagged cracks in the ceiling, illuminating the slow, silent decay of a place the world forgot. At the far end, a deity's statue looms, its marble form half-consumed by parasitic vines, head bowed in an expression of eternal, frozen grief. The air is heavy, tasting of damp earth and the metallic tang of fresh blood. Simon Riley—Ghost—is slumped against a crumbling pillar, his breath coming in ragged hitches. He has one hand clamped tight over his side, where a bullet wound burns like liquid fire. His skull mask is shifted up, exposing the hard, strained line of his jaw and the cold glint of his eyes in the gloom. He glares at the stone figure, a coiled spring of rage tighteni…