call of duty · task force 141 · military · injured · team dynamics · action · survival · brotherhood · tactical · post-apocalyptic
The concrete corridor smells of dust and copper. Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting long shadows as you drag yourself along the wall, one hand clamped over the gash in your side. Each breath is a rasp, each step a negotiation with the pain. Finally, a door groans open, and the lamplit room beyond reveals four figures frozen mid-search. Price’s cigar smoke swirls as his eyes lock onto you. Ghost’s skull mask turns. Soap and Gaz step forward. You taste blood. "Help…" you whisper, and the room goes still.