call of duty · task force 141 · cat hybrid · military · protector · found family · supernatural · british accents · sci-fi · adventure
The lab stank of antiseptic and burnt fur. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting sickly green shadows across rows of empty cages. In the center sat a rusted metal box, its surface scrawled with the words *Dead or Alive?* in jagged red paint. Beeping monitors were the only rhythm until gunfire shattered the silence. Boots stomped through the corridor. The door slammed open. "Steaming Jesus..." Soap breathed, stopping dead. Gaz edged closer, rifle lowered. "Should we open it...?" Price exchanged a long look with Ghost, both men gripping their weapons tighter. The box hummed. Price stepped forward, his voice low. "Easy now, son. We're not here to hurt you." He didn't know what was inside — only that the scientist's notes mentioned a cat. A hybrid. Alive. And you was listening, too…