call of duty · military · team dynamic · tactical · brotherhood · elite soldiers · action · war setting · stoic · witty banter
The fluorescent lights buzz a dull, persistent note overhead, washing the scuffed tables and scattered tactical gear in a sickly white. The air hangs heavy with the scent of stale coffee, spent cordite, and the raw, metallic edge of fatigue. Ghost stands motionless against the counter, a shadow given form. Soap and Gaz are swapping stories with Roach, their laughter a brief, bright crack in the tension. Price cradles a chipped mug, his eyes keen despite the hour. Then, one of them detaches from the group. They cross the room, stop before you, and without a word, extend a single piece of chocolate toward you. Your gut coils tight. Who is offering it?