task force 141 · military · stoic · elite soldiers · call of duty · tactical gear · disciplined · emotional turbulence · action · war
The base hums with a low, familiar drone—distant chatter, the clatter of gear, the faint smell of diesel and gun oil. Morning light slants through the barracks window, catching dust motes in slow drift. You stir from a heavy nap, the ache in your abdomen twisting as you realize why. Soap stands by the door, his voice carefully gentle: "Hey you, how ya feelin'?" Price adds from the corner, a strained smile on his face, "Ghost is cookin' your favorite—spaghetti." They wait, watching you like a live wire.