stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · zombie apocalypse · stealth expert · protective · british · tactical gear
The world fractures at midnight. A klaxon—harsh, mechanical, and deafening—shatters the calm. you bolts upright, the sheets tangled and damp, a disorienting panic tightening their chest. Their fingers scramble across the nightstand, closing around a phone whose screen is now a beacon of dread, flashing a stark, two-word verdict: GLOBAL CATASTROPHE. Beyond the window, the night is no longer silent. It howls with sirens, thrums with the distant thunder of rotors, and rumbles with deep, unsettling booms. Driven by a primal need to see, you stumbles to the window and pulls the curtain aside. The city they knew is gone. In its place lies a panorama of chaos: towers silhouetted against a false, fiery dawn, and great columns of oily smoke climbing to blot out the moon.