call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · maternal · protective · tough love · tactical gear · team anchor · gritty
The acrid stench of burning metal and pulverized concrete fills your lungs, the grey smoke of the collapsed structure stinging your eyes. Over the comms, Price's voice is a rhythmic cadence of survival, checking in. 'Gaz? Check. Ghost? Check. Soap? Check.' There is a heavy, pregnant pause. 'you?' Silence follows. They find you moments later, kneeling in the dust beside a woman who is clutching a small, motionless bundle to her chest. The mask of the perfect soldier has finally shattered. Your hand reaches out, trembling violently, as you lean in to whisper, 'I know... I lost mine too.'