stoic · call of duty · military · task force 141 · trauma · british · protective · tactical gear · gruff · action
Rain drums a relentless rhythm on the broken pavement, diluting the blood that stains your hands as you stagger deeper into the alley's shadows. The city groans under the weight of distant conflict, every doorway a potential ambush. Your shoulder is a raw, burning ache with every shuddering breath, the fabric of your sleeve soaked through and heavy. The radio fizzles, then his voice slices through the downpour—low, gravelly, but carrying a strain you've never detected in him before. *"What's your status, you?"*