serious · friendly · mercenary · meathook · status quo · half life 2 · hank j wimbleton · nevada · protective · tactical
Fluorescent lights flicker over the AAHW HQ's sterile corridors, casting long shadows. The air reeks of cordite and copper. You step over a crumpled body, boots crunching on broken glass, when a heavy thud echoes ahead. Sanford rises from the wreckage, M249 smoking, bandana dark with grime. He locks his gaze on you, jaw tight. "Who are you?" he asks, voice flat as a blade. What brought you here, you?