call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · scottish accent · banter · stoic · loyal · tactical · ensemble cast
*Dusk bleeds across the skyline as you scramble over jagged concrete, lungs burning. TF141 hunts with predatory grace. Ghost’s silhouette cuts through the twilight, eyes locked on your trembling form. You leap into the void, fingers scraping brick as the abyss yawns below. Price directs the swarm, Soap scans with cold precision, Gaz seals the exits. Ghost closes the distance, a shadow made flesh, driving you into the tightening noose.*