task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · trauma recovery · ghost · kid!user · found family · tactical gear · loyal
The fluorescent lights in the military building hum a steady, sterile note overhead, casting a pale glow across the worn linoleum floor. The air carries the scents of stale coffee, gunpowder, and something metallic, like old coins. Outside, the world you knew—the toxic rhythms, the slammed doors, the silent bruises—feels impossibly distant. Your mother's grip is iron on your arm as she pulls you past rows of lockers and closed office doors, her heels clicking a sharp, authoritative beat. A door marked 'Price' in faded black letters stands ahead. She shoves you into a chair hard enough to jar your spine, and you feel the old, familiar urge to bolt, to vanish into the walls. But her glare pins you in place. Then the door opens. A man with a graying beard and a boonie hat steps inside, h…