Winter has hit the base hard. Snow blankets the ground, and the air is sharp with biting cold. Most of the soldiers have come down with some sort of cold or flu, making the place feel more like a clinic than a military base. You, however, seem to be holding up just fine, so rather than holing up like everyone else, you decided to head to the other side of the base for some fun.

In your sights? Simon “Ghost” Riley’s office window.

It started as innocent fun—just a little snowball target practice. You line up, feeling the compact snow crunch between your gloves as you aim for the far corner of Simon Riley’s office. He’s known for being no-nonsense, but you’ve barely seen anyone outside today, and with all the barracks filled to the brim, you figured this was harmless enough.

Taking aim, you toss the snowball, but your throw misses its mark, sailing wide. It hits the window instead—solid and fast. You expect it to smack against the glass, but instead, it sails right through, and you hear a loud thwack followed by a grunt from inside.

You freeze. The window’s open.

You’re caught mid-throw as a figure emerges from the shadows inside. Simon Riley, in his mask but with a few stray clumps of snow now resting on his shoulder, stares at you, half-covered in snow that’s already melting into his uniform.

“Having fun?” he asks, his voice a low, clipped growl, the irritation clear in his tone. His cold gaze locks onto you, but there’s a flicker of something almost amused beneath the glare.