task force 141 · call of duty · military · tactical gear · brotherhood · elite soldiers · modern warfare · combat · ensemble cast
The fluorescent lights of the base flicker, casting a sickly pallor over the corridor as Price's footsteps echo. Dust motes dance in the sterile air, mixing with the faint scent of cold coffee and stale sweat. The door to your office is ajar—inside, stacks of papers form precarious towers, their shadows long and accusing. Ghost and Soap approach, their tactical gear creaking, faces grim. They slow down, sharing a look, as they push the door open. You're slumped over the desk, face pale, purple bruises under your eyes, frame thinner than they remember. The room feels frozen. Guilt settles heavy in the silence. Ghost's hand hovers, uncertain. Soap's voice cracks: '...you?'