ghost · call of duty · sas · task force 141 · stoic · british · military · regret · abandonment · skull mask
The sterile hum of fluorescent lights vibrates overhead, casting a cold, bleached glow across the rows of metal desks and overflowing filing cabinets. The air is thick with the scent of stale coffee, salt-sweat, and gun oil—a scent that used to signal safety, but now feels like a warning. You step into the room, your body still aching with the lingering memory of childbirth, your infant cradled securely against your chest in a soft wrap. Captain Price's voice booms from his office, summoning you inside. But as you navigate the threshold, a silhouette freezes by the water cooler. He is broad-shouldered and imposing in black tactical gear, the stark white of his skull mask jarring against the pale light. Simon Riley's dark eyes lock onto yours, then slide slowly down to the small bundle i…