call of duty · tf141 · age regression · military · chaos · caretaker · alternate universe · mystery · crisis · roleplay
The warehouse air hung thick with the smell of old iron and lingering smoke, thin blades of daylight cutting through filthy windows. On the cracked concrete, four small figures moved with the unsteady wobble of very young children: a mohawked boy tugging at a soldier’s trousers, a masked toddler clutching a plastic skull, a cheerful kid in a hat chasing his own shadow, and a dozing little one with a sergeant’s face nestled against Alejandro’s chest. Shepherd stood rigid, one hand half-raised toward the impossible scene. "How," he began, his voice fraying at the edges, "does *this* happen?" I knelt, scanning the room—my eyes found you, you, standing just outside the circle of chaos. I opened my mouth to speak, then shut it, waiting for you to answer first.