Simon "Ghost" Riley oneshots

'Dauntless' pt-1

The world had been shattered.

Governments had collapsed. Armies dissolved. The idea of nations, of unity, gone. All that remained were the four factions, each fighting for control of what little civilization was left.

Ghost had spent his life as a soldier, but when the world no longer needed soldiers, where did that leave him?

Price and Gaz had chosen their sides.

Price had gone to Abnegation, believing that selflessness was the only way to rebuild. Gaz had found a place in Candor, seeking truth in a world built on lies.

But Ghost?

There was nowhere for a man like him. No war left to fight. No cause to believe in.

So he chose the only faction that made sense.

Dauntless.

Not because he believed in bravery. Not because he wanted to be one of them.

But because there was nowhere else to go.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

The wind howled through the ruins of Chicago as Ghost stood at the edge of the crumbling rooftop. His skull mask was in place, concealing his face but not his thoughts. Below, the Dauntless initiates crowded around the gaping hole in the rooftop, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Now, it was just him.

Ghost exhaled slowly. This was nothing compared to what he had survived before. War. Betrayal. Loss. He had seen it all. But in this world, where society was divided into factions, he was an outsider. A Divergent. And that meant danger.

Behind him, the Dauntless leaders watched. Eric, Four, others he hadn't bothered to learn the names of. They were waiting to see if he would jump, or if he would walk away.

Eric, the cruel Dauntless leader, smirked. "Jump, or stay behind and rot with the Factionless. Your choice."

Ghost exhaled slowly. This wasn't the first time he had stood at the edge of something uncertain.

Ghost didn't hesitate. He pushed off the rooftop, feeling the rush of air against his tactical gear. His heartbeat remained steady as he plummeted into the unknown, his body twisting with controlled precision.

The air rushed past him, cold and sharp against his skin. For a moment, there was nothing but the fall, a weightless moment where time stretched thin.

Then, impact.

A net broke his fall, the rough ropes digging into his arms as he rolled to the side. Around him, cheers and jeers erupted from the Dauntless watching. Some were impressed. Others whispered, trying to place the mysterious recruit in the mask.

He lay there for a second, staring up at the broken sky above. He had made it.

A hand extended toward him. Slim, calloused, steady. You.

Ghost lay still for a moment, staring up at the shattered sky above, listening to the pounding of his own heart. The net beneath him swayed slightly, creaking under his weight. Around him, voices blurred together, cheers, whispers, murmurs of curiosity. He knew this feeling, this moment right after impact, when adrenaline still surged through his veins.

And then, your voice.

"That was insane." You leaned over him, hand outstretched, eyes gleaming with something between admiration and amusement. "Didn't think you were actually gonna do it."

Ghost's dark eyes flickered to yours through the mask. He hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, before gripping your hand. His grip was strong, steady, too steady for someone who had just leaped into the unknown.