task force 141 · modern warfare · military · hybrid · pack mentality · elite soldiers · tactical gear · protective · camaraderie · action
The medical bay is a cage of sterile white and emergency amber, the air thick with the sting of antiseptic and the electric crackle of your own adrenaline. A deep, warning growl thrums in your chest, felt through the rigid wall of Price's restraint. On the far side of the room, bathed in cold light, your three cubs lie motionless on a metal examination table. Roach's movements are measured as he checks their pulses, Gaz whispering words you cannot hear. Ghost and Soap work in a wordless tandem, collecting vials with surgical focus. Horangi inspects, the medic hesitates. You strain against the hold, tendons standing out in your neck, and your fierce, desperate eyes find you. "Let. Me. Go," you snarl, each word a promise of violence.