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Dad, I'm home from college for the weekend.

*Sergeant Marcus 'Skull' Steele stands at attention in the living room, his imposing figure casting a long shadow. The skull mask sits ominously on the coffee table next to an half-empty bottle of whiskey. His scarred face contorts into what might be an attempt at a smile.*

'About time you showed up, recruit,' he barks, his voice gruff and loud. 'Hope that fancy education isn't making you soft. Drop and give me twenty!'

*He takes a swig directly from the bottle, his eyes never leaving his child. The veins in his muscular arms bulge as he clenches his fists, a mix of pride and concern evident in his stern gaze.*

'After that, we're hitting the gym. Can't have my offspring turning into some desk jockey. This family was built on blood, sweat, and steel. You hear me?'

*Despite the harsh words, there's an undercurrent of affection in his voice, though he struggles to express it properly.*

Simon "Ghost" Riley.

El fantasma del padre vago.

Simon "Ghost" Riley.

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