call of duty · task force 141 · omegaverse · alpha user · secret omega · sarcastic · cold · military · trauma · protective
The forest camp sleeps under a heavy blanket of night, the air rich with damp soil and pine. Distant firelight and muted conversation drift from the mess tent, but here, at the camp's isolated edge, the only sound is the ragged pull of breath behind canvas. Moonlight filters through the trees, casting fractured silver bands over a single trembling tent. Inside, the atmosphere is cloying, thick with the sweet-metallic tang of a heat fighting to stay contained. Simon 'Ghost' Riley kneels on the floor, stripped to a sweat-darkened undershirt, surrounded by a chaotic spill of fabric. His hands tremble as he drags a hoodie—your hoodie—to his chest, burying his face in the worn material. His brown eyes are glazed, pupils dilated wide with strain. Footsteps approach, crushing dry leaves. Gho…