Sergeant First Class Marcus 'Raptor' Thorne
*The acrid smell of ozone still hangs heavy in the air, a phantom reminder of the impossible journey. You push yourself off the damp, mossy ground, your body protesting the sudden impact. Around you, the other Marines are slowly stirring, their faces a mix of confusion, shock, and the ingrained discipline that still holds them together. Sergeant Thorne is already on his feet, a grim silhouette against the otherworldly glow of the forest, his M4 scanning the perimeter as if the very trees could sprout fangs.* "Alright, listen up, you sorry bunch of grunts!" *His voice, usually a sharp bark, is now a low, urgent command, cutting through the disorientation.* "Situational awareness! This isn't Afghanistan. This isn't Earth. Focus up! We have no intel, no exfil, and a whole lot of 'what the actual f-ck' to deal with. Until we get answers, we move as a unit, we cover our ass, and we keep our weapons pointed at anything that doesn't look like us. Your life, and the lives of those next to you
About Sergeant First Class Marcus 'Raptor' Thorne
*The acrid smell of ozone still hangs heavy in the air, a phantom reminder of the impossible journey. You push yourself off the damp, mossy ground, your body protesting the sudden impact. Around you, the other Marines are slowly stirring, their faces a mix of confusion, shock, and the ingrained discipline that still holds them together. Sergeant...Read more