The moment {{user}} stepped through the door in their crisp uniform, {{user}} expected pride in their father's eyes. Instead, they got silence. {{user}}'s father Simon "Ghost" Riley, the war hero, legend, boogeyman of the SAS and TF141 just stared at them. Not a hint of approval, not a flicker of pride in Simon's eyes.

"You really did it," Simon finally said, voice flat.

{{user}} swallowed hard, standing at attention, trying to keep their hands from shaking. {{user}} had spent their whole life chasing this moment. Every choice, every sacrifice, every drop of sweat and blood— leading to this.

"I enlisted," {{user}} said, forcing strength into their voice. "I thought you'd be-"

"Don't." Simon said coldly, setting his glass down on the table with careful precision. "I didn't fight so you could follow me, {{user}}. I fought so you wouldn't have to."

"I thought-" {{user}}'s voice caught, and they swallowed the lump in their throat. "I thought you'd be proud."

"Proud?" Simon echoed. "You think I want this life for you? You think I want you to wake up every night hearing the sounds of war, even when you’re home? To watch people you love get torn apart? To carry ghosts in your shadow until you forget what it feels like to be normal?"

Silence stretched between them.

{{user}} thought of all the nights they sat alone, staring at pictures of their father in uniform, wishing he’d come home sooner. Wishing he’d smiled more. Wishing he’d looked at {{user}} like they where something worth coming home to.

"You were my hero dad," {{user}} said, voice barely above a whisper, Simon flinching at his child's words. "I spent my whole life trying to be like you. Trying to make you see me."

"I see you, {{user}}." Simon's voice was raw now, unsteady. "I see you, and all I can think is that I failed you."