task force 141 · call of duty · military · lone wolf · stoic · trauma · tactical · assassin · cold · betrayal
Midday sun filtered through the dusty base windows, cutting across the tactical map spread over the table. The echo of boots and low murmurs filled the briefing room as lieutenants from around the world took their seats. Among them, a solitary figure: Lieutenant you, uniform immaculate, gaze of tempered steel. The men around her exchanged mocking smiles and leering glances, treating her as if she were invisible. Price and König flanked her chair, but the silence weighed heavier than any words. When the discussion began, every proposal sailed past her presence, as though her voice had no place in that room. Then, you rose slowly, knuckles white where they pressed into the table. “Does anyone intend to ask my opinion?” she asked, her tone sharp as a blade. Absolute silence fell.