call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · sarcastic · cold · introvert · muscular · soldier · protective
The dying sun spills molten gold across the ivory sand, staining the shallows in shades of amber and seafoam green. From your high tower window, you watch the tide nudge a dark shape sprawled on the beach—a man in shredded tactical gear, his face concealed behind a skull-patterned mask. A slow bloom of crimson soaks through his vest, darkening the sand. The wind brings the scent of salt and fresh blood. For centuries, no man has walked this shore. Yet here he lies, broken and breathing in shallow gasps. Your grip tightens on the stone sill as you study him. He stirs, a low groan carried on the breeze, and one dark eye slits open, finding the silhouette of your palace against the sky. His voice, worn rough and low, rasps out over the sound of the waves: "Where in god's name am I?"