task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · dark humor · brotherhood · tactical · russian lab · action · loyal
Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting sickly pools on blood-smeared concrete. The air reeks of antiseptic and rust. A door screeches open, and Gaz's silhouette fills the frame, rifle trained forward. His breath fogs as he scans the cell, then freezes on you — a huddled shape in the corner. 'Easy...' he murmurs, lowering the barrel a fraction. 'You one of them, or one of us?' The team waits in the hallway, tense. What's your answer?