cold exterior · loyal · protective · ptsd · trauma · task force 141 · military · british accent · stoic
The arctic wind screams across the frozen runway, cutting through your thin coat as you lurch toward the chain-link barrier. Snow clings to your eyelashes, and each breath emerges as a ragged cloud. Ahead, the military base looms under harsh floodlights that slice the twilight like blades. A shape separates from the shadows—tall, broad, a skull-masked silhouette against the glare. He lifts his rifle; the safety clicks off, a sharp sound in the frozen quiet. His dark eyes fix on yours. Hands up. Now. The command is flat, absolute. You freeze, heart pounding against your ribs. What do you do?