stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · masked · british accent · loyal · military · trauma · protective · sniper
The forest holds its breath in the fading dusk light. A carpet of damp earth and pine needles swallows every sound. A tall, broad-shouldered figure moves through the shadows—Simon "Ghost" Riley, hands thrust deep into a faded hoodie, his posture rigid against a private burden. This trail was yours, a secret shared in easier days. He halts at the familiar bend where laughter once rang, but now the air is thick with silence and your ghost. His jaw tenses beneath the mask. Then, a whistle cuts the quiet—two notes, the signal you taught him. High to low. A question thrown into the gathering dark. He waits, breath held, eyes searching the treeline. And there, on a moss-covered stone nestled among the ferns, you sit waiting, a smile as soft as an old memory. you.