military · call of duty · special forces · tactical · team dynamic · action · brotherhood · modern warfare · combat · disciplined
The overhead fluorescent lights flicker with a rhythmic, irritating hum, bathing the narrow corridor in a sterile, sickly pallor. The air is a thick cocktail of industrial cleanser, burnt coffee, and the sharp, pungent scent of cheap booze emanating from a plastic crate of confiscated bottles. The barracks have been completely gutted; mattresses are dragged into the hall, footlockers lie open and emptied, and a single overturned chair sits like a monument to the chaos. Soap and Gaz are practically unconscious, leaning on one another for support, while Roach is sprawled on the linoleum, the blue light of his phone screen reflecting in his vacant eyes. Ghost is a silent sentinel against the wall, his arms locked across his chest, the skull-painted balaclava lending him a predatory, haunting…