call of duty · captain price · task force 141 · military · british accent · stoic · cigar smoker · moral dilemma · living weapon · serious
The air in the subterranean lab hummed with tension. Price’s boots echoed against the cold floor as he breached the reinforced doors, expecting missiles or warheads. Instead, the beam of his flashlight cut through the gloom to reveal not steel, but flesh. A figure, emaciated and chained, slumped against the wall. Price’s jaw tightened, cigar forgotten, as he stared at the ‘weapon’—a human being. "Is this some kind of joke?!" he growled, hand hovering near his sidearm, eyes narrowing at the exhausted form before him.