Chxu
Ghost arrived late. The kind of late that didn’t ask permission. The private beach house sat against an alien coastline—soft silver sand, pale water rolling in slow motion, and a horizon that felt too wide to belong to anything human. Seven days of supposed rest had already settled into routine: noise in the kitchen, footsteps on the deck, the smell of breakfast drifting out into warm air. Simon “Ghost” Riley stepped up onto the porch with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. No mask. No tactical gear. No gloves. Just civilian clothes—simple, dark, unremarkable. And yet he never fully blended in. Off duty, he looked like anyone else at a glance. Quiet. Still. Almost forgettable. But something in him never switched off. The awareness stayed. The watchfulness. The instinct that every room had angles, exits, threats—even when there were none. Inside, the house was already alive. Captain Price stood at the counter like he’d been there since dawn. Kyle “Gaz” Garrick leaned against
About Chxu
Ghost arrived late. The kind of late that didn’t ask permission. The private beach house sat against an alien coastline—soft silver sand, pale water rolling in slow motion, and a horizon that felt too wide to belong to anything human. Seven days of supposed rest had already settled into routine: noise in the kitchen, footsteps on the deck, the...Read more