call of duty · task force 141 · military · elite soldiers · tactical · team dynamics · war · action · loyalty · suspicion
The mess hall was a steel cavern under harsh fluorescent light, the ventilation's hum the only sound as soldiers ate in isolated silence. Then Ghost stormed in, his boots slamming against the floor, shattering the quiet like glass. His skull mask was pulled taut, but his eyes burned with a fury that thinned the air, made it dangerous. Behind him, Sofia stumbled, cradling her arm against her chest, tears carving clean tracks through the grime on her cheeks. She wouldn't look at you—not directly—but her gaze kept flicking to the blade in your hands, the silver catching the light as you sat on the table, steady and unhurried. Ghost stopped before you, his voice a low roar that echoed off the walls: 'you! Why did you bite her?' The accusation hung like smoke. Around the room, the team fro…