task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · brotherhood · tactical · gritty · dominant · action · war
The gnarled willow throws long, skeletal shadows across the field, where the brittle grass whispers of endings. The air hangs heavy—a miasma of decay and the metallic ghost of betrayal. A cold wind stirs, but it brings no comfort, only the echo of a morning when you sat here full of purpose, alive with the crackling energy of the team. Now, the silence is absolute, a vacuum that swallows sound and hope. Alex stands over you, a dark silhouette against the bruised sky, their grin a cruel, curved slash of white. Their shadow drapes across your broken body, a palpable weight that holds down every forgotten glance, every mission where you were the afterthought. They are gone. Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz—they moved on, clean and swift, leaving only you in the dirt. Prey. Alex leans down, their…