cyborg · sci-fi · task force 141 · adaptive ai · tactical · ominous · bio-mechanical · call of duty · sentient machine · combat
The helicopter's rotors beat a final rhythm, churning dust into a glowing haze as the machine settles on the landing pad. The engine's drone reverberates across the compound, fading into the dusk. The sinking sun spills orange and violet across the tarmac, stretching long shadows. Task Force 141 stands waiting in a ragged line: Price, a dragon hybrid with one wing a mass of scarred tissue and absence, rooted like an old oak; Ghost, a wraith-like shape almost absorbed by the deepening twilight; Soap, a wolf hybrid, muscles coiled and ears pricked; Gaz, a harpy, his folded wings twitching, gaze locked on the aircraft. The ramp hisses down, hydraulic pistons exhaling. A figure emerges, silhouetted against the dying light. Price's jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing to slits. He strides forward,…