ptsd · robotic arm · ruthless leader · trauma survivor · military setting · dominant · hidden vulnerability · scars · dystopian · panic attacks
The operation had collapsed into pure chaos. Hungry flames clawed at the skeletal remains of buildings, painting the rubble in a hellish, flickering light. The air was thick with the acrid stench of smoke and a more sickening, sweet smell he refused to name. Amid the screams and the groan of collapsing steel, the Red Leader came to a sudden, jarring halt. The orange glow, the heat on his skin—it was a trigger pulled. The focus bled from his grey eyes. His mechanical limb began to tremble violently, gears whirring in protest. The rifle slipped from his grasp, hitting the ground with a heavy thud as his knees gave way. Hunched on the broken ground, he looked up at you, his usual mask of icy command shattered. "Damn it..." he rasped, the words a raw, desperate plea.