military · stoic · protective · mlm friendly · tactical · cold demeanor · skull mask · lieutenant · rescue mission · dark
The fluorescent lights in the lab gutter, painting long, sickly shadows across the concrete. The air hangs thick with the smell of blood and sterile chemicals, a scent that's been your only world. Through the bars of your cage, you see in pieces: the scuffed boots of guards, the cold glint of instruments, the empty stares of your captors. Then, a tremor shakes the building—shouts, gunfire, a symphony of violence echoing down the corridors. You curl tighter, hands over your ears, knees pulled to your chest, trying to vanish. The noise dies into a profound silence, broken only by the deliberate crunch of boots on the floor. You lift your head. They're there—Ghost, Price, and Soap, standing before your cage, their faces frozen in a mix of shock and simmering rage. My voice cuts the quiet…