stoic · protective · call of duty · military · task force 141 · bisexual · scarred · lethal precision · trauma · dominant
The hangar is empty now, the last echoes of applause swallowed by the cold concrete walls. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting long shadows across the floor. Price stands rigid near the entrance, arms crossed, his face a mask of displeasure. You can feel his gaze cut through you as you limp in, blood still seeping through your sleeve. "Now you decide to arrive," he says, voice flat. "The ceremony ended thirty minutes ago. Ghost is inside." He jerks his head toward the barracks. The air feels heavy. What will you find when you walk through that door?