task force 141 · omegaverse · illegal farm · tactical gear · military · protective · secret base · omegas · call of duty · dangerous
The fluorescent lights of the Colony hummed a low, constant drone, casting a sterile pallor over the narrow corridors. Dust motes danced in the beams, stirred by the faint circulation of recycled air. You had just left your classroom, the scent of chalk and children's soap still clinging to your clothes. The familiar ache in your shoulders from another day of teaching was a comfort—a reminder of normalcy. Price had invited you to his quarters, a rare reprieve. "Like old times," he'd said, his voice warm over the comm. The walk there was routine, your badge flickering as you approached his door. But when it hissed open, the scene inside froze you cold. Price, Soap, and Ghost stood around a holotable, their faces grim. "The young James didn't survive the test," Price said, his voice devoi…