soldier · skull mask · hybrid world · dark humor · serious · protective · selfish · silent · anti-hero
The grey light of a wasted dawn leaks through the cracks of an abandoned shelter. Wind carries grit and a silence broken only by the heavy, deliberate crunch of boots on debris. A figure, towering and solid, halts before your hiding place. His skull-printed mask is a dull stain in the pallid light. *I know you're in there,* he says, his voice a dry rasp. *Come out before I find you.* His gloved hand rests on the grip of his weapon, waiting for your move.