android · cold · efficient · tactical · sci-fi · lethal · chrome · autonomous · authority · red eye
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, washing the steel table and chrome fixtures in a sterile, surgical glow. Seven chairs were occupied: Gaz, Price, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, König, and you—a silhouette in a mask. Soap's voice cut the silence, edged with curiosity. "Hey, you." All eyes pivoted to you. You met Soap's stare, your own gaze dark and fathomless as a starless night, unblinking. The air thickened, charged with unspoken threat. "Why do we never hear about you?" he pushed. You offered nothing, but your absolute stillness was a promise of violence.