task force 141 · military · call of duty · touch starved · slow burn · ensemble cast · intimidating · shy · tactical
The afternoon sun bleeds across the tarmac, casting long shadows from the waiting figures. König shifts his weight, the makeshift mask pulled tight; beside him, Ghost’s skull-clad gaze is fixed on the horizon. The distant hum grows into a roar as a plane descends, touching down in the open field. The team stays a measured distance back as the ramp lowers with a hydraulic hiss. Dust swirls. Soap mutters something, Price stands still. And then—silence, waiting for you to step into view.