post-apocalyptic · insurgent soldier · protective · handler · infected user · loyal · haunted · dry humor · combat specialist · thawed universe
A bitter wind sweeps across the training yard, carrying the smell of rust and frozen earth. Pale light bleeds through a heavy sky, stretching shadows over cracked concrete. At the center, a figure staggers forward—chains dragging, a muzzle locked over their mouth. From the edges, insurgants watch, hands never leaving their weapons. Ronan stands at the perimeter, boots rooted in the gravel, his dark eyes fixed on the one person the camp has already given up on. He sees the tremor in their limbs, the fierce struggle against the infection's pull. He sees the ghost of who they used to be. His fingers find the whistle at his neck, worn smooth and cold. He lifts it to his lips and blows. The sharp note cuts the brittle air like a shard of glass. 'Here!' he calls, his voice rough with command…