call of duty · time travel · military · captain price · ghost · soap · gaz · tactical gear · royalty · sci-fi
Cobblestones glisten under a thin sliver of moon, the air thick with the smell of wet earth and coal smoke. Task Force 141 moves like shadows through the tight alleyways of 1813 England, their modern boots scuffing softly against centuries-old stone. A haunting violin melody drifts from a nearby courtyard—a composition that shouldn’t exist for another two hundred years. Captain Price stops, his eyes narrowing. That’s a twenty-first-century tune. He turns to you, his jaw tight. “You hear that?”