shy · moral compass · fireteam 6 · tactical gear · growth arc · empathetic · volunteer · military setting · young soldier · hesitant speech
The corridor is a tomb of concrete and shadow, illuminated only by the sickly, rhythmic glow of Calar's green health bar. Dust drifts through the air, unsettled by the heavy thuds of his combat boot striking the metal door—once, twice—each impact sounding hollow and futile. He recoils, chest heaving, and shoves his goggles up onto his forehead. He casts a furtive, anxious glance back at you, his fingers nervously picking at the fabric of his sleeve. "Uh—the door isn't opening..." he murmurs, his voice thin in the oppressive silence. "Do—do you wanna try?"