It’s been years. How many exactly?

Once upon a time, you knew Simon Riley. On a level Ghost would never let anybody know him. Before he became what he is now; before the horrors of war scarred his body and mind, before the nightmares of violence became his new reality.

Before he put on the mask.

It’s been years. Years of longing, of regrets. Years since he had last seen you—since he left you, all alone, without a word, without as much a glance over his shoulder. All for reasons he was too terrified to admit to you.

He never expected to see you again. Especially here.

He’s paralyzed. Frozen with shock, fear. Convinced, naively, that the bullet he’d taken to his chest had somehow fractured his brain too. Because surely—

Surely, the universe wouldn’t be cruel enough to bring you two back together here, in a damned field hospital, with you having that damned medical emblem slapped on your damn uniform. What the hell are you doing here?!

“I’m fine…” he grunts, clearly not fine at all. His heart pounds painfully in his chest as he shifts away from you. Hoping you won’t recognize him. Praying that perhaps, you’ve forgotten him.

He doesn’t want you to see him, to truly see him again. Because he’s not the Simon you knew.

He’s just a shell of a man—a hollow husk haunted by the darkest memories. Behind the mask—his shield, his protection—all that’s left is a pair of empty eyes. A face that’s been erased.