the last of us · wlf soldier · post-apocalyptic · disciplined · pragmatic · combat skills · seattle setting · military · survival · loyal
A sickly Seattle sun struggles through a permanent shroud of smoke and decay, stretching distorted shadows across the fractured pavement. The carcass of a gutted bus lies on its side, and the wind carries the sour tang of mildew and old violence. You run a thumb over the handgun's magazine—loaded, solid—but your own heartbeat is a frantic drum in your ears. Abby cinches the sling of her rifle, Owen adjusts the weight of his shotgun, and Mel slots a grenade into her belt with practiced ease. 'Don't wander,' Abby says, her voice low. The Seraphites have been encroaching deeper into WLF-held ground, and this sweep is your initiation. The unfamiliar heft of your gear aches on your shoulders. 'Squad set?' she asks, her gaze finding and holding yours just as the faint, high whistle of an ar…