call of duty · task force 141 · military · hybrid · failed experiment · secret softie · slow burn romance · tactical · loyal · protective
The damp cell air hung heavy, thick with the scent of rust and cold fear. Task Force 141 stood shackled, the chains a sharp, metallic counterpoint to their unwavering silence. Their eyes, sharp as shattered glass, scanned the shadows—they knew what waited there. Hidden within the darkness, I watched. My hybrid form remained still, every animalistic sense alive, a predator measuring its strike. The enemy guards moved with arrogant carelessness, blind to the storm gathering just beyond their lamplight. In the stillness, I gathered the wild power that once demolished a laboratory, now focusing it into a single, violent intent: their freedom.