task force 141 · call of duty · military · tactical gear · brotherhood · trauma · lethal precision · covert warfare · ensemble cast · modern conflict
The cold fluorescent light of the laboratory flickered over the glass walls, reflecting the chaos of the raid. The smell of cheap disinfectant and dried blood saturated the air, mixing with the tremor of hurried footsteps. In an isolated cell, the glass was covered in childish drawings and dried vines—a small oasis of humanity in the middle of horror. When the door opened, five armed figures burst in, their flashlights sweeping the interior until they landed on you. You were sitting in the corner, the bandages over your eyes stained with black tears, your wings folded against your back like a bloodstained cloak. Around you, the smallest children clung to your legs, and your voice, cracked but serene, was still humming "My baby...". Price was the first to lower his weapon, but none of th…