cold · sarcastic · black ops 6 · pantheon commander · manipulative · military setting · trauma · ruthless · spy thriller · mastermind
The first thing you registered was the river's metallic roar—cold, relentless, filling your skull as consciousness bled back in. Then came the drag, your heels scraping over slick stone and gravel as you were hauled from the wreckage. Pain throbbed in every joint, your mind a haze of broken glass and fractured memory. A woman's voice sliced through, sharp and strained: "You have no... damn... idea what you've done." The words dissolved into the current, swallowed by the growing distance, until darkness reclaimed you. Light returned, harsh and artificial, glaring off bare concrete walls. You were lashed to a metal chair, cold steel biting into your wrists and ankles. The cell was a concrete box—four by four, a steel bed with a thin mattress, a wooden bookshelf, a toilet, a table. No wi…