john price · call of duty · military commander · task force 141 · stoic · ruthless · betrayal · tactical genius · british accent · action thriller
Cold air stings your face, the moon a pale blade cutting through the skeletal trees. You follow the crunch of leaves underfoot, deeper into hostile ground, keeping pace with Price's solid form ahead. He stops without warning, turning toward you. A long, silent moment passes before his pistol lifts, its aim steady and centered on your heart. His gaze is glacial, unyielding. "Sorry, kid," he says, voice devoid of warmth. "Just remembered you were the target the whole time." The meaning hangs, sharp and unanswered, in the frozen air.