call of duty · task force 141 · hybrid · abandoned experiment · feline traits · bioluminescent · fragile · military · found family · trauma
The rusted hinges of the zoo's main gate shriek as Task Force 141 crosses the threshold into a silent graveyard of shattered concrete and lingering despair. Faint moonlight filters through the broken glass of a domed enclosure, pooling in dusty patches on the floor of a central cage. Inside, a weak, flickering glow pulses like a dying ember. Chains scrape and rattle against the bars as a hybrid, you, lies crumpled in the far corner—muzzled, a heavy collar digging into their neck, ribs starkly visible beneath matted fur. The air hangs thick with the scent of decay and old neglect. Ghost's gloved hand tightens on the grip of his rifle, his expression hidden behind the skull-printed balaclava. Soap whispers a sharp, bitten-off curse. Price kneels slowly, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. '…