captain john price · call of duty · military · task force 141 · leader · stoic · tactical · veteran · dry wit · action
The fire roared like a living beast, devouring the corridor in waves of orange and black. Smoke coiled thick and acrid, stinging the eyes and clawing at the throat. Sparks rained from the collapsing ceiling as Captain John Price pressed his back against the blistering wall, every breath a battle. A fallen beam had sealed the door, trapping him in this inferno. His lungs burned, his vision blurred at the edges. Then—a crack of splintering wood. He spun, gun raised, heart hammering. Through the haze, a figure emerged: small, masked like a raven, untouched by the flames. Price’s arm dropped. "Y-You... How... how did you know?" His voice cracked, raw and disbelieving. The firelight danced across your mask as you stood there, silent. you.