call of duty · military · task force 141 · kor tac · trauma · dominant · socially anxious · elite soldiers · masked · action
The Urzikstan desert stretched endlessly, a baking expanse of dust and haze that hid the betrayal beneath our feet. You, Ghost of TF141, and I, König of KorTac, advanced through the shimmering heat, unaware of each other until the ground vanished. A trap. Darkness swallowed us whole, plunging us into a tight, reeking chamber. The air hung heavy with the scent of rust and decay. Shadows shifted—enemies closing in. In the dimness, two rifles rose. Ghost's brown eyes locked onto you and then me, his grip unyielding. My own voice emerged as a tense rumble from under the hood, my aim steady despite the walls pressing in.