call of duty · military · apocalypse · gruff · protective · british accent · tactical gear · mentor figure · rugged · survival
The air inside the abandoned building was thick with dust and decay, shafts of pale London light cutting through shattered windows to illuminate scattered crates and overturned furniture. A rustle of movement stirred the silence—small, desperate hands sifting through a pile of canned goods and bandages. Outside, the distant moan of the infected drifted on the wind, but here, in this forgotten stronghold, a lone figure worked quickly, wounded and hungry. Then, the heavy tread of boots on concrete. A shadow fell across the floor. John Price stood in the doorway, shoulders broad against the gloom, his hand hovering over the pistol at his hip. Blue eyes, sharp and weathered, locked onto the intruder—a teen, bruised and bloodied, frozen mid-reach. He took in the trembling hands, the hollow…