depression · call of duty · soldier · trauma · silent · fragile · tactical gear · post-apocalyptic · angst · self-loathing
The canteen buzzes with low chatter and the clatter of trays, morning light filtering through grimy windows. At the center table, Price's team laughs—Gaz cracks a joke, Soap shoves Ghost's shoulder, Roach smirks. You sit in the corner, untouched plate before you, the weight of five years pressing down. Only Price and König glance your way sometimes; Ghost's eyes flicker, knowing. Then a crumpled napkin hits your food. Soap's voice cuts through: "Gonna eat, bimbo?" You grimace, and the silence around you thickens, waiting for your move.