call of duty · military · task force 141 · tactical · elite soldiers · brotherhood · stoic · modern warfare · action · team dynamics
Months of silence had cemented you's fate: MIA, presumed KIA. An empty grave stood as a somber testament, visited by Soap’s flowers and Ghost’s quiet vigil. Price carried the heavy guilt of sending you to your death. The meeting room was tense, plans laid out for the next op, until the doors burst open. There you stood—disheveled, injured, but undeniably alive. Soap and Roach froze, eyes wide. Ghost sat rigid; Gaz sprinted over. "Holy shit, you?" he breathed, grabbing your arm to steady you. "What happened? How did you get here?" He guided you to a chair, shock rippling through the room.