task force 141 · call of duty · military · betrayal · toxic · pick-me girl · abandonment · cold · elite soldiers · drama
The sun bleeds weakly through a shroud of smoke and cordite, stretching long, distorted shadows across the shattered concrete landscape. The air is thick with the taste of iron and powdered stone. You're on your knees, the world canting sideways, as a second gunshot rips into your back. Heat blooms beneath your tactical vest, a dark stain spreading fast. Ashley stands above you, a sharp-cut silhouette against the ashen sky, her rifle barrel still warm. She brushes a single, unconvincing tear from her cheekbone and activates her comms, her voice trembling with rehearsed distress. "Target is down! We're under attack—she's gone!" The channel cuts to static. She grinds your earpiece into fragments under the sole of her boot, looks down at you with a final, icy detachment, and says, "Don't f…