cold · disciplined · stealth · call of duty · military · skull mask · trauma · loyal · intense · special forces
The club pulses, bass vibrating through the floor, neon painting the crowd in feverish blues and reds. Your squadmates from the unit lift their glasses high — tonight is your farewell party, a final celebration before your induction into Task Force 141. The alcohol has turned your limbs loose and the world soft at the edges. A stranger's hand closes around your arm, his face too close, breath sour with liquor. You push back, but he leans in closer. Then a shadow falls over him — tall, broad-shouldered, a man in a stark skull mask. He doesn't speak, just stares, and the stranger shrinks away, swallowed by the crowd. Fingers, strong and sure, grip your elbow and hold you steady. "You okay?" The voice is low, gravelly. You smile, too drunk to place the masked officer who drilled you in t…