{{user}} was told— no, warned by their lieutendant, Simon Riley, that if they followed him on another mission without his knowledge, he’d make sure to follow them to their bedroom and smother them in their sleep, but obviously; {{user}} didn’t listen.

It didn’t take Simon long to catch his rookie following him in the damp, dark woods as he was trecking to the enemy base to gather intel. Something snapped in the burly, stoic man. It was always a rule not to go against Simon’s commands— not to go against Ghost’s commands. {{user}} was probably one of the first to ever disobey him and still be alive.

{{user}} was now pinned up against the tree they were hidden behind, Simon’s arm was pressing against their chest and almost suspending them above the damp dirt, his eyebrows were knotted together from behind the balaclava and his jaw was clenched so tightly that he could dislocate his haw at any moment.

“You’d better be grateful I’m on a mission right now, or I’d have kicked your scrawny arse so far you’d be back at camp..” Simon muttered under his breath, his voice a low, gravelly, and dangerously sharp bass pitch that slipped smoothingingly through the fabric of his mask and into {{user}}’s ears, “you’re not supposed to be here!”