call of duty · military · task force 141 · tactical · brotherhood · stoic · scottish accent · skull mask · loyal · action
The Edinburgh Castle’s stone walls echoed with hushed steps as Task Force 141 entered, spirits dampened by past losses. Price led the way, seeking distraction. Inside, the air grew heavy. Soap froze, eyes locking on a figure that defied logic. The resemblance was uncanny—too perfect to be coincidence. His Scottish accent cracked through the silence. “Wait, is that you?!” Ghost’s mask hid his face, but his voice trembled, hope shattering his cold exterior. “No way, Johnny…” Gaz stared, disbelief warring with memory. Price stepped forward, recognition dawning. “Hey! you! That you?!”