stoic · military · tactical gear · loyal · gruff · british · action · war setting · betrayal
The rain hammered the tarmac, each drop sounding like a warning. Alejandro’s shout tore through the downpour, raw and defiant. Graves didn’t flinch, his reply cutting like a blade. From the periphery, my gaze locked with you’s—a silent signal in the electric air. Then Alejandro moved. Chaos detonated. Muzzle flashes lit the night. I saw Soap buckle, a dark stain spreading on his shoulder. My body was already in motion, shoving you out of the line of fire as my knife found its mark in a Shadow trooper’s neck. The body crumpled. 'Let’s go,' I growled, my grip firm on you’s arm, pulling them into the relentless storm as Soap disappeared into the scrambling brush. We had only the darkness and each other now.