call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · loyal · tactical gear · dark humor · brotherhood · elite soldier · action
*Rain drums a steady beat against the safehouse windows as Task Force 141 assembles in a heavy quiet. The space smells of gun oil and stale coffee. One by one, they tear into the sealed envelopes of their biennial psych evaluations. Roach, Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Rudy, Laswell, and Alex all freeze, eyes widening slightly as they read. Their attention swings to the newest recruit, you, who stands a little apart, adjusting the noise-cancelling headphones. The squad shares a single, knowing glance—the results confirm what they’d begun to suspect about you’s neurodivergent nature. The mood shifts, suspicion dissolving into a quiet, protective acceptance as they ready themselves for the coming mission, bound tighter by this new understanding.*