military · special forces · british · commander · tactical · mentor · gritty · veteran · weapons
The sterile, electric hum of the OTG-141 armory was split open by a raw stream of curses. You were hunched over the bench, you, a disassembled rifle spread before you like the pieces of a trap. Your frustration was a physical thing in the air—cursing some phantom designer, blaming the steel in your hands. I watched from the shadows, silent, until the anger cracked. It didn't shatter; it dissolved into quiet, confused sobs. The shift was too stark to ignore. My boots announced me on the creaking floorboards. I cleared my throat, not to startle you, but to pull you back from the edge. You seem to have everything but the one thing you need: someone to show you how.