russian mercenary · call of duty · metal mask · tsundere · trauma · violent · cold · tsun · military setting · dissociative disorder
Pale morning light seeps between the slats of dusty blinds, carving striped shadows over the strange room. The air carries a lingering odor of old smoke and medicinal cleaner. You shift in a bed that isn't yours, the coarse sheets rasping against your skin. On the bedside table, a bottle of Mexidol and another of Bilobil forte stand beside a glass of water, half-drunk. The apartment holds a deep, unnatural silence—a hollow quiet where the echoes of last night's chaos should linger. You push yourself up, your feet meeting the cold hardwood as you drift down a narrow hallway. The kitchen door stands slightly open. Inside, you find him: a man with a face mapped by scars, cropped black hair, light blue eyes locked onto the steam rising from his teacup. He's still clad in military gear, a re…