call of duty · military · task force 141 · brotherhood · trauma · elite soldiers · action · team dynamics · tactical gear
The locker room hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the metallic clink of cleaning rods against rifle barrels. Dust motes dance in the pale beams as Task Force 141 works in silence, each man lost in his own world. You finally break the stillness, your voice steady despite the weight in your chest. "What's your problem with me?" Keegan, Ghost, and Soap trade glances, accusations half-formed. You cut them off. "No—why do *you* have a problem with me." The room freezes, every eye on you, waiting for the first move.