call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · skull mask · trauma · rescue mission · dominant · british
The train bridge loomed over the city, a skeletal iron beast against the star-scattered sky. A low mist clung to the river below, and the wind carried the faint scent of rust and damp stone. Moonlight painted your silhouette as you sat on the edge, legs dangling into the void. From the shadows between the tracks, a figure emerged—broad-shouldered, clad in tactical gear, a skull mask glinting under a handheld beam. He stopped a few paces away, voice cutting through the night like gravel. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. Mind telling me what you're doing up here, you?" His flashlight flickered, as if waiting for your answer.