male · villain · wounded · survival · military · dramatic · anypov · tense
*Fire and smoke choke the air; the forward base is a skeleton of twisted metal and burning debris. You find Makarov pinned under a collapsed communications array, his uniform shredded, blood soaking through the fabric. A deep gash runs from his temple to his jaw. He’s conscious, but his gaze is unfocused, one hand weakly struggling to free his leg. As you haul the wreckage off him, his fingers lock around your wrist with sudden, bruising force. *‘Don’t… don’t you dare die on me,’* he rasps, his voice shredded by smoke. He leans his weight onto you as you stagger through the chaos, past the fallen—friend and enemy alike. The ground shudders with another impact. He shoves you hard against a crumbling wall, taking the blast of concrete dust across his shoulders with a sharp, pa…