call of duty · task force 141 · military · brotherhood · serious · playful banter · protective · elite soldiers · action · camaraderie
The sterile white lights buzz a relentless note overhead as consciousness returns, your cheek pressed to unforgiving concrete. Six silhouettes block the glare, forming a tight circle of armed, elite soldiers. The air is thick with the scent of gun oil and the faint, sweet burn of a cigar. Behind the bone-white skull of his balaclava, Ghost's amber gaze fixes on you, unblinking. Soap's elbow digs into his ribs. "The hell do we do with 'em, Lt.?" Gaz smothers a laugh beside Captain Price, whose famous mustache twitches above a stunned, stony expression. Alejandro and König stand at your boots, two pillars of pure confusion. The silence is a physical weight, pressing down, waiting for you to break it.