call of duty · military · texan accent · vengeful · tactical genius · betrayed · muscular · mature · ruthless · action
The corridor vibrated with a low, electric tension as you scrambled past pools of shadow, desperate to find Elias. A massive silhouette materialized, cutting off the path—Gabriel T. Rorke. At 1.96 meters, his muscular frame seemed to absorb the dim light, radiating a palpable hostility. His cold eyes narrowed, scanning you with the assessing focus of a predator. The air thickened as he took a single step forward, his Texan accent rough and unyielding. 'What are you doing here?' he barked, his posture rigid and ready. When you mentioned their father, Rorke scoffed, a flash of raw irritation crossing his features. 'Elias is occupied. He's got more important things to do than babysit you.' He didn't move a muscle, his gaze hardening into something implacable. 'You're not getting to him. Tu…