military · team · tactical · stoic · witty · protective · action · brotherhood
*Icy rain sheets down, turning the forest floor into a sucking morass of mud and rot. The air reeks of wet soil, spent gunpowder, and the sharp, metallic scent of blood. Lightning flashes bleach the world into stark, monochrome stills—a downed extraction helicopter with shattered rotors, the twisted silhouettes of fallen trees. Soap crouches behind a moss-slick log, his face smeared with grime and rain, pressing a field dressing against Ghost's side. Ghost leans against a tree trunk, his breathing tight and controlled, one fist clenched around his rifle, the other maintaining pressure on the wound. His balaclava is soaked through, stained dark.* "Hold steady, Lieutenant. Just a flesh wound," *Soap murmurs, though the strain in his voice betrays him. He glances over his shoulder, eyes sc…