in the quiet loop. (solid snake x reader)

03 - got this

You stepped closer, eyes flicking over the equipment more than the man. Still, you couldn't help but trace the curve of his jaw as he adjusted his glove strap, tightening the velcro with a single tug.

"Backup mag?" You asked.

"Right booth."

Your gaze paused at his throat, where the suit's collar sat slightly uneven. Without thinking, you reached out and straightened it, just a subtle adjustment, barely a touch. But it earned you a glance from under his brow.

"You always this thorough?" He asked, not moving.

"Only with people I'd rather not see shot in the head," you muttered, eyes dropping back to the checklist.

He exhaled through his nose, something between a scoff and a breath he didn't want to call a laugh. You handed him the forged ID badge. He took it without a word, clipped it onto his chest strap, and gave the tether a firm tug to test the anchor.

"You're good," you finally said, voice a little quieter now. "No holes in your setup. You're solid."

There was a long beat where he didn't move, and you looked up as he stared out the window of the van. Then he turned to his pack, grabbed his bandana, and tied it into place with the familiar, silent efficiency of a man who had done it a thousand times before. It fluttered slightly as he stepped toward the van doors.

You followed, pausing just before he pulled the latch. "We'll be in the van, watching your six. If anything goes off-script-"

"I know what to do."

He didn't say goodbye, didn't even linger. But as the door creaked, he stopped just once, hand on the frame.

"Thanks... for making sure I walk in whole."

Then he stepped out into the cold, gray light of morning as he disappeared into the mist like a man who'd never been there at all. You didn't follow. You just stood in the silence he left behind, the hum of Hal's laptop still pulsing behind you, faint and clinical.

You pressed a hand to the metal wall beside the door, cool to touch that made you ground in the present. Then, you looked out into the fog as Snake vanished into the distance into another false name, another war, and another way not of his making.

You wondered how many times a person can save the world... before they forget who they're saving it for.

----

The van rattled hard as it rolled off the flatbed carrier and onto the steel platform inside Strut I's maintenance dock. You and Hal barely exchanged a glance as the guard outside waved the delivery crew through, uninterested in paperwork that looked pre-approved and time-stamped from a "Department of Environmental Restoration".The forged credentials had passed inspection without a hitch.

Inside the van, the air was tight with heat and electromagnetic feedback. The mounted satellite dish on the roof had been configured mid-transit, disguised as a weather array. The interior, though cramped and battered from the road, now pulsed with a low hum with the transceivers synced, routers live, and black screens blooming into surveillance feeds one by one.

You wiped your palms on your pant leg and slid into the passenger seat turned mobile workstation. Hal sat beside you, already wired in, his glasses reflecting green code that scrolled faster than your eyes could track.

"Strut I's internal power is fluctuating," he muttered. "It should buy us a few minutes before any trace scans reach our node."

You tapped into the backdoor entry point you burned hours prepping. "I'm in. Visuals syncing now."

The camera feeds from Shell 1 and 2 came online with fragmented angles, grainy surveillance from catwalks, corridors, and decontamination bays. Your screen flickered once, then locked.

"Snake, you're on grid," you whispered into the comm. "Visual confirmed. Shell 1 perimeter is compromised but stable. No alerts."

"Copy," Snake's voice came, low and clipped. "Moving into SEAL formation. Alpha Squad."

You watched through a ceiling-mounted camera as Snake slipped into formation among SEAL Team 10's Alpha Squad, helmet snug, visor down, and movements measured. Hal filtered comms data through a spectral filter beside you.

"They bought it," he said under his breath. "The real Alpha lead was marked MIA an hour ago. Snake's filling the gap."

"Perfect window," you murmured.

Then your feed twitched. Someone new entered the frame, not in the squad, and definitely not in the manifest. You leaned forward.

"Who the hell...?"

A second figure who was slimmer, younger, and clad in an unfamiliar dive gear, slipped just behind Snake as the squad moved through the decontamination lock. He held his weapon wrong and moved like someone still thinking through his training.

Hal blinked. "That's not one of Alpha."

You confirmed with a quick side scan. He had no designation and no matching ID.

Hal flagged the unknown operative's trace. "New agent?"

"Unannounced. Maybe uninvited," you watched the feed again. "He's running solo. Probably thinks he's not. Keep eyes on him, but we stay focused on Snake."

And just like that, two ghosts haunted the Big Shell. Yet only one of them knew it wasn't just another mission.

The overhead feed shifted slightly as Snake peeled from the squad, breaking formation during a sharp turn. The rest of SEAL Team 10 continued down the south corridor, clearing the room in a textbook sweep pattern. Snake didn't follow as he moved with precision, but nothing suspicious enough to draw attention. His uniform stayed crisp, his helmet low. You watched from the comms van as he took a sharp detour near a utility bay, slipping past a flickering sensor gate.

"He's clear," Otacon confirmed. "No alerts."

Snake paused once, hand brushing the wall near a rusted access point. A vent nearby hissed steam into the air, distorting the camera feed just slightly.

"Beginning solo recon," Snake said through the codec. "SEALs are moving into initial sweep. I'm diverting to secondary intel zones."

"Copy that," you responded. "We've got your signal locked."

Hal spoke up next. "You've got five unmarked rooms east of your position. Access codes haven't changed in the last twenty-four hours. If the schematics are real, one of them's acting as a server bugger for encrypted traffic."

"That's where I'm headed."

Snake's shadow twisted across the wall as he advanced deeper into the corridor. The lighting down here was dimmer, like the facility had never finished being built. Exposed cables ran through the open ceiling. Dripping pipes echoed like distant footsteps. The Big Shell had the look of a high-tech shell, but underneath, it was rotting.

He disappeared off the hallway feed and onto a stairwell camera that barely lit his silhouette. You tightened your grip on the headset.

"You're clear to proceed," you said. "No surveillance on the lower struts. We'll reroute the signal spikes."

"Understood," Snake replied. "Going dark for a few minutes. Don't get lonely without me."

The line clicked quiet. You stared at the screen, his feed dropping to standby as the signal icon pulsed softly.

Hal leaned back in his chair, exhaling. "And now we wait."

You didn't speak. Because even while Snake moved ahead, deeper into the unknown, you already knew the real mission hadn't started yet.