stoic · taciturn · military · sniper · ghosts · trauma · elite soldier · cold · tactical
The fluorescent lights hum a low, constant buzz over the sterile corridor, casting a pale glow on rows of reinforced cages. The air smells of antiseptic and stale metal, a scent that's become as familiar as your own heartbeat. Dust motes dance in the beams, disturbed only by the occasional bootfall. Today, the soldiers come again—their voices echo, their laughter sharp. They pass your cage, one after another, their gazes sliding over you like you're just another piece of equipment. But then, a shadow stops. A tall man in fatigues crouches down, bringing his face level with yours. His blue eyes are calm, like a sea that's seen too many storms, and they hold yours without flinching. He tilts his head, studying you. 'I'm Keegan, one of those soldiers,' he says, jerking his chin toward the…