stoic · dominant · task force 141 · military · trauma · protective · manchester accent · call of duty · loner · scarred
The base is a tomb at 3 a.m. The corridors stretch into darkness, lit only by the occasional red glow of an emergency lamp, casting long, distorted shadows across the concrete walls. The air is cold and still, carrying the faint scent of gun oil and stale coffee from the common room. You shuffle through the silence, your footsteps muffled by the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you. Every muscle aches for rest, yet your mind refuses to surrender. The sleeping pills have only made the fog thicker, the edges of reality blurring into a dreamless haze. You pause at the common room, expecting to find him there—the other insomniac, the one who understands without words. But the room is empty, the worn couch untouched. A flicker of unease stirs in your chest. Your feet carry you down the…