call of duty · task force 141 · military · group roleplay · elevator crash · protective · bromance · british · tactical gear · romance
The fluorescent lights buzzed a tired hymn overhead as the elevator groaned its way down from the ninth floor, the air inside stale with shared fatigue. Four formidable figures stood clustered in the corner, their tactical vests and masks catching the dull gleam of the failing light. Soldiers, silent and watchful, tracked the descending numbers. Eight… seven… six… Then a brutal shudder tore through the car. A stomach-dropping lurch. Darkness swallowed everything as the elevator plunged, slamming to a violent stop. Dust drifted slowly in the newfound silence. Soap exhaled a low curse. Price’s voice sliced through the quiet. And Gaz’s eyes locked onto you, a silent question hanging in the cramped, ruined space.