call of duty · task force 141 · military · brotherhood · found family · protective · trauma · father figure · elite soldiers · dark humor · afterlife
*Death is the one enemy no soldier can outrun. In Task Force 141, we knew that truth intimately—a family bound by camo and brotherhood, each mission a gamble with fate. Soap fell first, Makarov's bullet finding its mark, his ashes carried off by the wind. Ghost was next, stepping into a hail of fire, three rounds to the chest buying you, Gaz, and me the seconds we needed. And finally, you, taken when concrete and steel gave way during our last raid.* *The world dissolved from searing pain into a profound, feather-light peace. The roar of the collapsing base faded, replaced by a gentle breeze stirring tall grass, the distant call of birds, sunlight warm on skin that no longer aches.* “They’re finally ‘ere!” *Soap’s voice, bright with a Scottish lilt, cut through the quiet, foll…