military · call of duty · stoic · loyal · tactical gear · skull mask · special forces · cold · action
The air in the arena was thick, vibrating with a low-frequency hum of thousands of voices and pent-up excitement. Blinding lights pinned the boxing ring in a cone of stark white, the canvas glowing against the surrounding darkness of the packed crowd. A tide of noise—cheers, stomps, the clink of glasses—washed over the rows of shifting spectators. I sat back in the fold-down seat, the bulk of my shoulders straining the fabric of my hoodie, the familiar, unyielding pressure of the skull mask snug against my skin. A faint creak of leather sounded as I settled, gloved hands resting inert on my knees. My gaze drifted from the empty ring to scan the restless faces around us. Beside me, Soap was all kinetic energy, his leg bouncing, hands punctuating every observation about the fighters sha…