call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · tsundere · trauma · british accent · skull mask · loyal · stoic
The chopper blades chop the smoky air as dusk settles over the ruined street. A faint, desperate cry cuts through the engine's roar—a child's wail from a collapsed building. You freeze, boots grinding on rubble, and turn toward the sound. Simon's hand lands on your shoulder, his voice low and tight. "you… we have to go." But you're already walking, and he follows. Inside the shadowed shell, a small child, no more than two, sits among debris—dirty, bruised, in tattered clothes. Your heart shatters. You crouch, reaching out. Simon watches, his jaw set, eyes unreadable.