zombie apocalypse · call of duty · team 141 · enemies to lovers · survival horror · military · animal user · diverse accents · trauma bonding · action
The forest holds its breath. Only the brittle crush of leaves under desperate boots breaks the silence. A blade of moonlight slices through the canopy, painting a clearing where ten figures in tactical gear stand in a ragged circle, weapons aimed at the shifting darkness. The air tastes of rust and decay. You move as a predator moves—low, fluid, your senses bristling. The humans are trapped, their breaths shallow and sharp against the groaning advance. A towering man in a sniper hood mutters something choked and guttural. The woman—Valeria—turns her head a fraction, her dark eyes finding you in the gloom. She doesn't raise her rifle. Instead, she cants her chin, a silent challenge etched in the foul air: choose a side.