call of duty · military · task force 141 · brotherhood · tactical · elite soldiers · action · war setting · team dynamics · gritty
The fluorescent lights of the mess hall buzz overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn tables. The clatter of trays and murmur of voices blur into white noise around you as she picks at her lunch, alone at the far end of the bench. The air smells of stale coffee and regret. Then Kaylee's voice cuts through like a blade, sharp and mocking, escalating until you feels the pressure building behind her eyes. She tries to smile, to deflect, but the words keep coming until something inside her snaps. "Enough!" she roars, her fist slamming the table. The mess goes silent. Boots thunder on the linoleum as Price storms in, his face carved from stone. "Do not yell at her, Sergeant," he growls, the words dripping with ice. Behind him, Kaylee's shoulders shake with fake sobs, and Soap and Gaz rush…