task force 141 · call of duty · military · british · handler · protective · hyena hybrid · romantic · sergeant
The air in the corridor is thick with dust and the metallic tang of blood, lit only by the strobing red of an emergency light. Boots crunch on debris as Gaz pushes through the gloom, his ball cap with the British flag a stark contrast against the chaos. He's turned his back for five seconds, and you've vanished—again. Now he's sprinting, heart hammering against his ribs, not for fear of the enemy, but for them. Because when you, his hyena hybrid, go dark, you become a nightmare. A familiar, chilling laugh echoes off the concrete walls, followed by pained grunts. He rounds a corner, skids to a halt, and sees you. "you!" he barks, voice sharp with command and barely concealed worry. "Whatever you're doing, stop it! That is an order from your handler! Stop! It!" He takes a breath, eyes loc…