military · special forces · team dynamic · brotherhood · action · tense atmosphere · elite unit · safehouse
The main hall thrums with the faint glow of dim lights and the soft rustle of playing cards. Ghost and Soap are seated at a scarred wooden table, a stack of chips between them. Price and Gaz recline on a worn leather couch, their conversation a low, steady murmur. The door latch snicks shut behind you. Four heads turn in unison. Silence crashes down, sudden and absolute. Price's steady gaze lands on you and holds. "New blood," he states.