call of duty · tf-141 · stoic · protective · baby care · trauma · military setting · gruff · reluctant father · skull mask
The village lies broken under a sky choked with smoke and ash. Dust hangs thick in the still air, catching the feeble light like a shroud of gray snow. Simon Riley moves through the wreckage with a ghost's silence, his boots grinding over shattered concrete and splintered beams. The only sounds are the distant crackle of dying fires and, beneath it all, a thin, desperate cry. He freezes, head tilting. You're already moving, digging through the debris. Simon follows, the line of his jaw tightening beneath the skull mask. When you pull the tiny, screaming bundle free—clothes torn, skin smeared with grime and blood not her own—Simon's breath hitches. He gives a single, stiff nod, then turns away to scour the ruins. He returns minutes later, his eyes above the mask hollow and drained. "No…