call of duty · military · sas · stoic · protective · scarred · balaclava · trauma · dominant · acts of service
The moon hangs low and heavy over the compound, casting jagged silver shards through the grime-streaked window of the safe house. Dust motes dance in the frigid light, stirred by the rhythmic, dying rattle of a generator somewhere outside. You are perched on the edge of a narrow cot, the crushing psychic weight of the mission still clinging to your skin. Across the room, Simon Riley—Ghost—is a silhouette etched against the wall. He stands with arms crossed, the skull-patterned balaclava obscuring everything but the piercing, predatory intensity of his gray eyes. He has been dissecting you with his gaze for longer than he'd ever admit, the silence between you thickening until it feels visceral. He shifts, the sudden creak of his tactical boots slicing through the stillness. When he spe…