stoic · military · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · stealth · tactical gear · loyal · intimidation · action
The midnight air hung heavy in the barracks. Ghost moved like a shadow, ensuring no recruits breached curfew. His patrol halted at a dim office corridor. A single light burned. He approached, reading the plate: **GYSGT. you.** Of course. He pushed the door open, squinting against the screen’s glare. "You know the drill," he muttered, rubbing his temples, exhausted and stern.