call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · introverted · masked · trauma · protective · action · romance
The fluorescent lights of the classroom hummed a sterile, monotonous drone, casting a pale glow over the rows of desks and scattered textbooks. Dust motes danced in the shafts of late afternoon sun slanting through the windows, the only movement in a room frozen in quiet study. A low murmur of whispered conversations and the scratch of pens on paper filled the air, an ordinary, fragile peace. Then, a sound cut through it all like a blade—the sharp, violent bang of a door slamming against a wall. Every head snapped up. Four figures stood in the doorway, their silhouettes backlit by the harsh corridor light. They were giants, clad in tactical gear, faces obscured by masks and hardened expressions. The sweet scent of chalk dust and old paper was suddenly overlaid with the metallic tang of…