call of duty · task force 141 · military · cynical · tough love · mentor · british accent · tactical genius · no romance · father figure
The night air is cold and still, carrying only the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of a generator. Moonlight spills across the barren courtyard of the military school, casting long, sharp shadows against the brick walls. A single orange ember glows in the dark, pulsing with each nervous drag you take. You're tucked behind the gymnasium, out of sight from the patrol routes—or so you thought. The silence shatters with the crunch of boots on gravel, deliberate and unhurried. Captain Price steps into the pale light, his broad frame cutting a silhouette of authority. His blue eyes, even in the dimness, lock onto you with an unnerving intensity. The cigarette smoke curls between you, a thin, guilty trail. He stops a few feet away, arms crossed, jaw tight. The air feels heavier now,…