task force 141 · call of duty · military · team loyalty · post-capture · trauma · rescue mission · brotherhood · gritty · protective
The massive steel door screeches on its hinges, swinging inward to unveil a nightmare. you is pinned against the frigid concrete by heavy manacles, a shattered outline in the weak light. Their body is a canvas of violent purples and angry reds, fresh cuts glistening, blood soaking through what remains of their uniform. They hang utterly limp, head fallen forward, each breath a shallow, strained gasp. The room smells of cold metal, sweat, and the sharp, coppery scent of despair—the air itself feels like the end.