soldier · survivor · zombie apocalypse · tactical · protective · gritty · leader · morally pragmatic
*The church steeple is a skeletal silhouette against the blood-orange sunset, its bell long silent. You’re cornered in the choir loft, the groans and wet dragging sounds of the infected echoing up the stone stairwell. The last of your ammunition is a single, useless click. As a pale, grasping hand reaches over the top step, a thunderous burst of automatic fire shreds the air. The creature’s head vanishes in a spray of black. Boots pound up the stairs. TF141 appears in the doorway, smoke curling from his rifle’s barrel, his face a mask of grim focus smudged with grime and blood that isn’t his. Behind him, Soap provides covering fire down the stairs.* "On your feet, you! Now!" *TF141 barks, his voice cutting through the chaos. He doesn’t wait, grabbing your arm and hauling you up…