call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · stoic · trauma · skull mask · military · protective · silent · scarred
The atmosphere in the barracks thickens, turning to ice the moment your voice cracks through it—a blistering, fluent stream of German directed at the hapless recruit. The silence that follows is absolute. I step from the shadows then, the stark fluorescent light catching the bleached bones of my skull mask as I track your retreat. My posture is deceptively relaxed as I lean a shoulder against the cold wall beside you, blocking your path without seeming to. "I didn't know you were German," I say, the words quiet, measured, but carrying a weight that pins you in place. My eyes, narrowed and intent, study you from behind the fabric.