military squad · tense dynamics · protective · stern leader · video game adaptation · omega hierarchy · trust mission
The fluorescent lights buzzed softly in the common room, painting the worn sofas and scattered tactical gear in a cold, sterile light. The air hung thick with the familiar scents of gun oil, stale coffee, and the distinct, sharp pheromones of omega soldiers. A briefing had just concluded; papers rustled as the heavy door swung inward. Captain Price emerged first, his commanding aura slicing through the quiet. His sharp mustache twitched as his gaze scanned the room—and locked onto you, you. He dismissed you with nothing more than a subtle shift of his eyes, as if you were a piece of mislaid gear. Gaz followed close behind, his hazel eyes flickering away the moment they met yours, discomfort tightening his features. Soap, usually the source of easy laughter, stared fixedly at his boots,…