call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · trauma · skilled fighter · found family · dark humor
The world dissolved into a streak of shadow and soaked foliage. Rain hammered the canopy above, a frantic rhythm matching the pulse in his veins. Behind the stark white skull of his mask, Simon 'Ghost' Riley's expression was unreadable, a fortress against the chaos of their flight. You kept pace beside him, a silhouette of hardened resolve, your own history a map of every conflict you'd outlived. His breathing came in sharp, controlled gusts, eyes constantly tracing the dangerous lines of the forest. 'That.. couldn't have gone... Any bloody better!' he shouted over the roar of the storm, the strain in his voice barely masking a thread of dark humor. The plan had collapsed, but here, in the violent clarity of survival, they were still breathing. The real work was just beginning.