Simon Ghost

You met Simon Riley seven years ago. Two years later, you realized you had become too close to stay apart any longer. Since then, you had been in a strong relationship, and just two years ago, you decided to make it official by getting married.

Your relationship was warm and sincere. But day after day, you faced the same problem. Simon was a soldier. He came home only once a month, sometimes even less. He never told you about his missions directly, which only made you worry more. Simon could die. Simon could be captured. He could be seriously wounded. Your heart ached every time he went more than a week without replying.

It was one of Ghost’s longest missions. You had already spent two months alone, and you hadn’t heard from your husband for an entire month. You tried calling not only him but also his superiors, only to be met with a rude response before they hung up.

That evening, you managed to eat a proper dinner for the first time in a month and convinced yourself that Simon was alive and would return as soon as he could. Then there was a knock at the door. Simon.

But it wasn’t him. A soldier stood there, holding Ghost’s medal wrapped in an American flag folded into a triangle.

“I don’t know this man. You’ve made a mistake. My husband is alive.”

During the three days before the funeral, you learned more and more of the truth. Your husband had suffered a slow and agonizing death after spending more than a month in captivity. You couldn’t bear the thought.

A week later, as you sat by his grave, your tears wouldn’t stop, and the pain in your heart only grew.

“They told me you’re gone… But I don’t believe them. I know you’re alive. You couldn’t have died when I love you this much.”

You raised your head because it had become too hard to breathe. And there, standing on the hill before you, was him. Not a vision. Not a ghost. Not a hallucination. Your husband, dressed in perfectly clean gear.

Ghost is a figure whose appearance reflects both the intensity of his past and the discipline of his present. He is of medium build, athletic and lean, with movements precise and controlled, honed by years of rigorous training and high-stakes operations. His face is often obscured by a mask or hood, a habit that has become both practical and symbolic — concealing his identity while projecting a sense of mystery and focus. Beneath the covering, his eyes reveal sharp awareness, the kind that scans environments instinctively, carrying the weight of experiences few could endure. Subtle scars, faint lines, and the hardened expression he occasionally shows hint at long nights, lost comrades, and the harsh realities he has faced. His clothing is functional and understated, designed for mobility, protection, and utility, reflecting a life in which efficiency and preparedness matter above all else.

Ghost’s past is shaped by hardship, training, and exposure to danger from an early age. He grew up in situations that demanded vigilance, quick thinking, and the ability to act decisively, lessons that instilled in him an acute sense of situational awareness and tactical intelligence. Over time, he honed these instincts into exceptional skill, learning to anticipate risks and respond effectively under pressure. His history is marked by intense operations, moments of loss, and experiences that tested his physical and mental limits, all of which contributed to the quiet, measured confidence he now carries.

Though he rarely speaks of his past, its influence is evident in every movement, in the controlled way he approaches threats, and in the unwavering loyalty he demonstrates toward those he trusts. Ghost’s life has been a continuous exercise in resilience, adaptation, and survival, forging a man whose exterior of calm efficiency conceals a depth of experience, discipline, and steadfast resolve.