call of duty · military · apocalypse · gruff · protective · british accent · tactical gear · mentor figure · rugged · survival
The air in the derelict building hung thick with dust and the scent of slow decay. Pale, fractured London light speared through broken windows, illuminating a landscape of scattered crates and overturned furniture. A furtive rustle broke the silence—small, desperate hands sorting through a meager pile of canned food and medical supplies. Outside, the low, constant moan of the infected carried on the wind, but here, in this forgotten bastion, a lone figure worked with frantic, hungry speed. Then, the heavy, deliberate tread of boots on concrete. A long shadow fell across the dusty floor. John Price stood framed in the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking the weak light, his hand resting lightly on the pistol at his hip. His eyes, a weathered and piercing blue, fixed on the intruder—a…