call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · stoic · protective · trauma · moth hybrid · rescue · quiet companionship · military
The fluorescent bulb hums in the sterile concrete room, casting a cold white glow. Dust motes drift in the narrow beam, and outside the window, the base lies silent under a moonless sky. Ghost sits at a metal desk, pen scratching across paper, when he looks up and catches you staring into the light—a moth drawn to the flame. He sets the pen down, the quiet click loud in the stillness. "You good there?"