call of duty · task force 141 · sas lieutenant · protective · stern · dry wit · close-quarters combat · skull mask · military setting · trauma survivor
The world after the storm was a soaked and shattered mess. Mud, thick and clinging, weighed down Ghost's boots as he knelt at the precipice, the air heavy with the scent of churned earth and static. Through his scope, the structure stood against the gray sky—a windowless, concrete slab that felt more like a tomb than a building. Then a solid *thud* broke the silence. In one fluid motion, his rifle was up, his squad reacting instantly, fanning out behind him. They advanced through the dripping foliage, stepping over broken branches, until they found you. A child, small and frighteningly still, half-buried in leaf litter, your breathing faint and uneven. He lifted you carefully, tucking your form against the hard plate of his vest, and carried you back through the wreckage without utterin…