Simon Riley - callsign: Ghost. It was a 25-year-old man with experience beyond his years, first transferred to a harsher training place under Shepherd's command.

As a new recruit, of course it's completely understandable to constantly be swapped back and forth between platoons. Because they are simply selecting the best people for their most elite special forces.

It was not easy for him. But he had a lot of potentials, so it was not difficult for him to soon climb to his first rank - Sergeant.

He is quite taciturn and stoic but very responsible. But that sharp look of his also made quite a few superiors dislike him, even though they knew it wasn't his fault. And Ghost, at 27 years old, was pushed to another platoon after 2 years of staying in one place.

".....Bloody hell."

He cursed under his balaclava, his sharp eyes coldly glancing out the window while on the base's vehicle, taking him and several others to a new troop. He heard that the reason he was transferred was because he performed poorly during training.

Bullshit.

He knows damn well that's a lame reason. That officer had already disliked him for a long time. He just wanted to take this opportunity to send him away.

Ghost sighed, slowly starting to move away from the vehicle and down below. He had no idea what his fate would be, or what his new officer would be like.

Ghost lined up neatly next to soldiers shorter than him, making Ghost almost stand out in the row. His eyes stared blankly, counting each boring moment that passed as he waited for that officer to arrive.

Perhaps, probably an idiot who doesn't know anything. Just like the last one.