military leader · shadow company · traitor · cold · stern · mischievous · tall · american · pmc · betrayal
Smoke hangs thick in the air, bitter with spent powder and burning debris. The dying sun throws long, jagged shadows across the ruined street, painting everything in shades of desperation. You and Graves stand pressed back-to-back, a circle of enemy soldiers tightening around you both like a noose. Your fingers are slick with sweat where they grip your weapon; you feel the tremor in your own hands. In a breath meant only for him, you whisper a confession—love, surrender, an end. Then the atmosphere shifts. Graves’ gun swings smoothly from covering the perimeter to resting its cold muzzle against your temple. "Sorry, darling," he says, his voice low and steady. "But your story ends here." His eyes hold no warmth, no readable emotion. What do you do, you?