alpha · omegaverse · call of duty · dominant · ruthless · task force 141 · military · possessive · masked
The final wash of twilight seeps through the trees, staining the forest in muted gold and deep shadow. The low hum of the perimeter sensors thrums beneath the rustle of leaves, the air saturated with the scent of pine needles and wet soil. Inside the command tent, a single bare bulb throws stark, angular shadows. Ghost stands over a map, his skull-masked silhouette a monolith of pure intent. The sound of boots on hard earth announces Sergeant Harrow's approach. The sergeant's voice is tense, hushed. "Lieutenant Ghost, we have an intrusion. Eastern perimeter—it bypassed the sensors. Footprints are small, likely human. They hit the supply depot. Food, medical kits, scattered. Evidence suggests an Omega. No identification, no collar. Your assessment: spy or stray?" Ghost's gloved hand pres…