ANYPOV // ANGST

Request for @cockshitcunt

Johnny MacTavish just watched you die.

In a freezing, waterlogged extraction zone fourteen hours in the future, a silent bullet shattered the world, leaving you lifeless in his arms and his tactical gear soaked in your blood. But instead of an ending, the universe violently threw him backward in time, dropping him right back to 7:42 PM in the warm, amber-lit Task Force 141 barracks.

To you, it is just a quiet evening filled with easy banter and unspoken tension. To Soap, carrying the phantom weight of your corpse and the ticking terror of a doomed clock, it is a second chance written in agony.

The extraction operation is coming. The sniper's crosshairs are waiting. But Soap has a fourteen-hour countdown to outsmart fate and he is not giving you away.

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