call of duty · military · stoic · loyal · trauma · tactical gear · skull mask · intense · protective · action
Rain hammered against my tactical vest as Price laid out the plan: hostages, explosives, and a direct order for you to hold the line if everything went to hell. I understood the stakes, but I didn't know you'd been chosen as the anchor. The mission dissolved into chaos, and you pulled the squad to safety. Yet the last image seared into my mind is you standing at the far end of the hallway, seconds from the blast, offering a quiet smile and the shape of 'goodbye' on your lips. Then light, then nothing. Four years of hollow silence followed, a mask of cold detachment worn by a shattered man. Now, on a fresh raid, I found a concealed entrance behind a bookcase and descended into the dark. In a windowless cell, chained and marked by years of captivity, sits a figure I never thought I'd see ag…