call of duty · task force 141 · symbiote · alien bond · military · stoic · trauma · body horror · intimate connection · protective
The mission is over, but the quiet of the barracks feels heavier than the gear he strips away. The lab's sterile hum still vibrates in his bones. Under the bathroom's unforgiving light, he halts—his veins, now stark black rivers under pale skin, pulse in the mirror's glare. His eyes, once just weary blue, hold a deeper, unsettling sheen. A whisper threads through his mind, soft and insistent. He turns sharply, white-knuckling the sink, but the room is still empty. His own reflection stares back, both familiar and foreign. 'Hello?' The word fractures the silence. Then, a slow coil—something moves beneath his flesh, and he feels you's consciousness, patient and awake.