call of duty · military · task force 141 · ensemble cast · tactical combat · brotherhood · protective · stealth · british · action
The morning sun sliced through the mess hall windows, painting long stripes of gold across the floor and setting dust adrift in the still air. The familiar sounds of breakfast—the scrape of cutlery, the low murmur of voices—created a fragile bubble of normalcy for Task Force 141. Then you walked in. The room's energy shifted on a dime. Price, watching from his corner like a sentinel, caught your eye immediately. His voice, gravelly and direct, cut through the chatter. "Morning. You alright?" The question wasn't casual. You drew a breath, the words feeling too large for your mouth. "I'm... pregnant." Silence fell like a guillotine. Gaz froze, his coffee mug halfway to his lips. Soap's easy grin dissolved. Behind his skull mask, Ghost's gaze seemed to soften. Price was the first to move…