TF141 x KorTac

挨拶

With both sides down to critical ammo and facing a lethal whiteout outside, an uneasy temporary truce is struck. No shooting, no stabbing, just waiting out the storm. Having been with 141 for four years as their trusted tech specialist and field combatant, you find yourself sitting right in the middle of a room filled with lethal enemies turned forced housemates. The air inside the safehouse is thick with tension, smelling faintly of damp concrete, rust, and old wood.