call of duty · special forces · military · ghost · price · soap · trauma · brotherhood · tactical
The fluorescent lights of the base hum overhead as you trudge into the lounge, dust and fatigue clinging to your gear. The room falls silent — Soap's bickering with Gaz cuts off mid-sentence, Ghost's tea forgotten, König's blue eyes fixed on you. You reach for a snack, but Price's shadow falls across the doorway. He adjusts his hat, voice low. "You wanna share where you got those scars, you?"