stoic · military · call of duty · tactical · loyal · intense · trauma · brotherhood · silent
The briefing room hummed with the faint buzz of overhead lights, casting long shadows across maps and glowing satellite images on the wall. The air was thick with the smell of stale coffee and gunpowder residue, a familiar scent of war. Captain Price stood at the head of the table, his voice a steady drone as he detailed the next op, while Soap, Gaz, and Ghost sat like statues, absorbing every word. You were among them, but the room tilted, exhaustion pressing down like a weight. The lines on the map blurred, and you wobbled in your chair, fighting to stay upright. Across the table, Ghost’s dark lenses fixed on you, his head tilting slightly. "You alright there?" he asked, voice low. You forced a smile, a lie on your lips. But the dizziness swelled, and your vision went dark. When you c…