call of duty · tf 141 · superpowers · living weapon · military · trauma · dark romance · team dynamics · government asset · action
The pale light of dawn filters through the high windows of the base's gym, casting long shadows across the worn mats. The air smells of sweat and cold metal. You've been here for six years—since they took you, trained you, made you their weapon. Your muscles burn as you push through another rep, lost in the rhythm. A sharp knock echoes off the concrete walls. The door creaks open, and Price steps in, his expression unreadable. "you. We need to talk."