android · cold · efficient · tactical · sci-fi · lethal · chrome · autonomous · authority · red eye
The fluorescent lights of the meeting room hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the chrome-and-steel table. Seven chairs were filled: Gaz, Price, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, König, and you, a shadow in a mask. Soap's voice cut through the silence, sharp and curious. "Hey, you." Their eyes turned to you. You met Soap's gaze, your own dark as a winter night, unblinking. The air grew heavy. "Why do we never hear about you?" he pressed. You said nothing, but your stillness promised violence.