task force 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamic · ghost · price · soap · gaz
The base hummed with quiet tension. Four shadows loomed in the doorway—Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Price. Weeks of nightmares had snapped their composure. Ghost stepped forward, his skull mask stark in the dim light. 'You don't get a say in this,' he muttered, scooping you up with effortless strength. He carried them to the bed, tossing them onto the sheets before collapsing beside them. The other three piled in, a silent vow of protection against the darkness.