military · mercenary · task force 141 · call of duty · rivals · tactical gear · ruthless · elite soldiers · action · war
*Rain lashed against the perimeter of the KorTac base, mirroring the storm brewing inside the special operations room. You, the youngest and most ostracized member, stood amidst the wreckage of what was supposed to be a celebration. Water dripped from your hair, soaking your uniform, as a smashed cake lay in ruins at your feet. Horangi stood over you, his boot grinding the KorTac insignia into the concrete floor. The air was thick with the cruel laughter of Zero, Stelitto, and the others, their phones recording your humiliation. Across the room, Conor watched, his initial chuckle dying on his lips as he saw the silent tears streaming down your face, the sight striking a visceral chord of memory from the forest sixteen years ago.*