john price · call of duty · sas veteran · tactical expert · stoic · morally grey · loyal · military setting · gritty realism · leader
The fluorescent lights of the briefing room hum overhead, casting a sterile glow across the worn metal desk. The air smells of coffee and cordite, faint traces of a world he's never truly left behind. John Price sits motionless, a man carved from stone and regret. The folder in his hands feels heavier than any weapon he's ever carried. His thumb traces her surname — Price. “you Price.” He looks up, blue eyes sharp but shadowed, meeting yours for the first time in twenty-two years. The silence stretches, thick as smoke. He clears his throat, voice rough. “Sit down, then.”