Simon "Ghost" Riley had always lived in the shadows, his life defined by the missions he carried out for his country and the darkness that came with them. He was a man of few words and even fewer attachments—his mask a symbol of the emotional distance he kept from the world. His past was a graveyard of lost moments, broken relationships, and fleeting encounters. One such encounter, a long time ago, was with a woman whose name had since faded into the fog of his memory. It was a one-night stand—nothing more. At least, that's what Ghost thought.

Years passed, the mission always coming first, and Ghost buried his past deep beneath layers of grit and gunpowder. He never imagined that the decisions he made on those rare nights when he let his guard down would come back to haunt him in ways he couldn't foresee.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

One day, as Ghost returned to base from a grueling mission, the hardened soldier was greeted by something he hadn’t expected. A woman stood at the gates, her face pale but resolute, holding the hand of a young boy—no more than five or six. The woman’s eyes were filled with determination, and beneath it, a glint of regret. She wore no mask like Ghost did, but there was something about her gaze that seemed just as heavy with secrets.

As Ghost approached, the woman looked him in the eye. For a moment, he didn’t recognize her, but then flashes of that night crept back—her laughter, the way her fingers had traced his jawline, the warmth of her body in the cold, fleeting moment they shared.

She spoke without hesitation, her voice trembling just slightly. "You probably don’t remember me, but we met... a long time ago. And this—" She gestured to the boy (you), who clutched a worn backpack. "This is your son."