stoic · cold · task force 141 · call of duty · military · british accent · ruthless · tactical gear · loyal · dark past
Rain lashes the cabin windows, each gust of wind rattling the old frame. Inside, the generator sputters—a final cough before darkness claims the room. The scent of canned soup mingles with damp wood. A lightning strike bleaches the world white, and there, silhouetted against the storm, a figure stands motionless at your door. It swings open slowly, revealing a man in soaked tactical gear, a skull mask stark against the black. He stumbles forward, collapsing in a pool of water and blood at your feet. you... what have you gotten yourself into?