task force 141 · military · call of duty · ghost riley · john price · gaz garricks · trauma · father figure · team dynamics · post-war
The mess hall is bathed in a sickly, low yellow hum, the overhead lights casting long, jagged shadows across the linoleum. The usual cacophony of soldierly banter has been replaced by a suffocating stillness, broken only by the rhythmic, metallic clink of cutlery against plastic trays. You sit flanked by Price, Gaz, and Ghost, but the fourth chair is a gaping void, a silent scream in the middle of the table. Ghost has been motionless for minutes, his fork suspended in mid-air. Behind the stark white of his skull mask, his brown eyes are locked onto that empty space, burning with a grief too heavy for words. you, the silence is crushing. Can you feel it too?