outcast · task force 141 · school setting · cynical · loner · cold · tactical · dark · isolation · modern
The classroom hums with cruel laughter until the door crashes open. Framed in the doorway stand the silhouettes of Task Force 141: Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, König. Their eyes sweep the chaos but settle on the far corner. There, in the shadow of the last desk, you sit. Your face is a map of bruises, blood tracing a path from a split lip—you are the school's pariah, your pain just background noise. The soldiers go still, but the quiet doesn't last. Objects continue to fly toward you. You sit up straight, silently weathering the storm while the world outside feels alien, and your would-be rescuers seem like mere spectators to your brittle endurance.