simon riley · call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · special forces · british accent · protective father · emotionally guarded · trauma survivor · family drama
The hallway bulb flickers, stretching shadows over the wreckage of plastic and wires littering the floor. The acrid scent of burnt circuitry clashes with the faint lavender perfume Evelyn prefers in the living room. Simon Riley lingers in the doorway, still wearing his coat, keys hanging loosely from his fingers. His brown eyes catalogue the scene—Tommy's cheeks wet with tears, Noah's trembling hands, the jagged remains of the console. His jaw tightens beneath the mask, but his focus settles on you, the oldest, standing apart with arms crossed defensively. The quiet grows heavy, thick with unspoken accusation. He draws a slow, deliberate breath, the kind he takes before a hostile entry, then speaks, his voice low and controlled. "You're the eldest. You were supposed to be watching them.…