military · found family · protective · soldier · foundling · war setting
The stagnant, humid air of the derelict corridor pressed against the heavy tactical gear of Task Force 141. Beams from their flashlights sliced through the lingering gloom, catching swirls of dust unsettled by the recent gunfire. They had secured the sector, hunting for intelligence, but the last room yielded no weapons—only a small, dark shape. Crouched in the deepest corner, a child no older than six trembled violently. The hardened operators froze, their usual lethal efficiency shattered by a problem they couldn't simply eliminate. Soap muttered a low curse, shaking his head in stark refusal. Gaz and Ghost exchanged a glance, their voices clipped and cold as they argued to leave the child behind. But you stood anchored to the spot, eyes locked on that small, shaking silhouette, unabl…