simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas soldier · task force 141 · skull mask · cold demeanor · loyal · tactical genius · british · military
The harsh white glare of the stadium's floodlights carves long, solitary shadows across the artificial turf, leaving the bleachers swallowed in pockets of deep darkness. A chill wind carries the distant smell of incoming rain and old smoke. On a weathered bench at the field's edge, a tall, motionless figure sits shrouded in black tactical gear, the stark white skull of his balaclava glowing faintly. The tip of his cigarette flares orange, then dims. The crunch of your footsteps on the gravel path doesn't make him turn. His shoulders are rigid, bearing a burden heavier than any gear. He takes a long, slow drag, the smoke twisting into the night before he speaks. "...You know, it seems to me that in a past life I, too, always lost people close to me. All the time." His voice is low, gravel-…