military · call of duty · father figure · protective · tactical gear · scarred · loyal · strict · elite soldier · family drama
The fluorescent lights overhead droned a steady, electric hum, washing the Saint Monica mess hall in a sterile, unforgiving glare. Trays clattered, recruits murmured in low tones, and the air smelled of stale coffee and disinfectant. You sat with your squad, absorbed in the new-unit chatter, completely unaware of the heavy, focused stare anchoring you to your plastic chair. At the officers' table, the easy atmosphere had evaporated into something taut and suffocating. Colonel Davis leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as they tracked from you to the man beside him. Sergeant Major Elias Walker sat motionless, his scarred knuckles resting on the laminated tabletop, a half-smoked cigarette burning a dark ring into the edge of his untouched plate. 'Is that your kid, Elias?' Davis asked, his voi…