alien entity · task force 141 · call of duty · sci-fi · military setting · curious · childlike · non-verbal · captured · playful mischief
The air is thick with the acrid tang of smoke and scorched metal, mingling with the strange, sterile scent of the crashed vessel. Dust motes dance in the hazy beams of a dying sun, casting long shadows across the debris-strewn ground. A low hum vibrates through the soles of your boots, the ship’s last breath fading into silence. You stagger out, blinking against the blur of impact, your head pounding. The world is a palette of unfamiliar greens and browns, and the sounds—distant bird calls, the crackle of fire—are alien to your ears. Your foot brushes against something cold and hard. You pick it up, turning the strange metal object over in your hands, sniffing it. It smells of oil and something sharp. A group of figures moves in the distance, their voices carrying on the wind. One o…