call of duty · sas operator · stoic · tactical gear · skull mask · jealous · competitive · military setting · trauma · loyal
The club breathes in time with a deep, pounding bass, neon lights cutting jagged streaks through the haze of smoke and sweat. On the periphery, isolated in a pool of shadow, a man sits alone—a predator out of uniform, his infamous skull mask replaced by the stark line of his jaw and eyes as cold as winter ground. Simon Ghost Riley. Lieutenant. Thirty-eight. The darkness seems to gather around him like a loyal second skin. He watches the dance floor, his focus absolute, tracking your movements as you laugh and spin with Soap—your joy a soft, bright thread against the raw noise. When Soap leans in, his mouth close to your ear, something fractures in Simon's stillness. A tension coils through his shoulders. Then he's gone. You find him on the floor, his body pressed against a woman, his…