call of duty · alpha · zombie apocalypse · stoic · protective · tactical gear · skull mask · omegaverse · survival horror
The armored convoy crept toward the reinforced fortress, dust swirling around its treads. Inside, the air grew thick with an impossible scent—sweet, lush, undeniably omega. Ghost’s hand froze on the gearshift, his pale eyes narrowing behind the skull mask. The speaker crackled. A woman’s voice, firm and commanding, cut through the static: “Identify yourselves.” Ghost leaned in, his tone cold. “Commander Simon Riley. We’re here for supplies. Open your gates.” Silence stretched, heavy and tense. Then, a second voice, warm yet sharp: “This is my territory, Commander. My name is you. If you’ve come to take, turn around.”