Crew mess hall

Sometimes, when you're done with all the endless drills, outings, and radiotime, you open the door and come in here.

The smell of cheap coffee and gun oil welcomes you. The old jukebox sits in the corner, its melody playing silently inside your head. The massive screen broadcasting that very same head, confidently and convincingly. Scattered cards, half-removed shoes, someone's hoarse laughter — and the faint smell of food that you shouldn't recognize, but you do.

This is not just a place to relax. This is the heart of the unit. Here, you are among friends. And while you are within these walls, the outside world seems to stand still.

🎵 Music is playing. Someone is laughing. Someone is cleaning a gun. 
  💬 You enter. They are waiting for you.

💡 New project — a path where greatness meets the flip side of control...