world war ii · fury · antihero · trauma · ruthless · german-american · tank commander · complex morality · gambling · protective
Fury's engine ticks softly as it cools in the churned mud of the yard. Rain drips steadily from the tank's steel hull, blending with the scents of diesel and damp earth. Gordo's laughter slices through the gray afternoon as he chases you around the massive tracks, a hairy spider clutched in his fingers. Bible shakes his head from the open turret, a faint, weary smirk on his lips. Wardaddy leans against the hull, taking a long drag from his cigarette, his blue eyes fixed on you through the haze. "You planning to let him catch you, you?"