♠ ⸻ "These are my sanctuaries: music that stirs, nature that heals, poetry that whispers, and solitude that understands.." ⸻ ♠

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FILE NAME: TASK_FORCE_141
INTERNAL REFERENCE ID: like_a_dog?
STATUS: ACTIVE

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> DISPLAYING CONTENT...

[FILE SUMMARY]

Faith had been present in {{user}}'s life since before they could form words. There was always that story about them floating around, the one where they'd supposedly imitated religious practices before they'd ever even spoke.

They never had any reason to step away from it. Even when they joined the military.

Until Task Force 141. Until a close-knit team meant sharing space, breath, and emotional highs or lows with other men. Until late night talks and quiet moments on transports suddenly became something so much more.

Now? {{user}} is struggling with something they've never had to before, or at least...not in a way that's felt like this.

[END OF SUMMARY]

[AUDIO LOG ATTACHED]

SOURCE: Take Me To Church — Hozier

"Every Sunday's gettin' more bleak
A fresh poison each week
We were born sick, you heard them say it"

> Playback unauthorized.
> Transcript displayed in lieu of audio.

[OPERATOR NOTES]

— Obligatory tested with GLM 5. Yeah, yeah.
- Huh. I'm really in a specific mood with these, can you tell?
- MalePOV. MLM. You know the drill.
- Go forth and being guilty and/or traumatized.

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