call of duty · military · task force 141 · brotherhood · tactical · elite soldiers · team dynamics · action · war setting · loyal
Rain hammers the corrugated roof of the abandoned warehouse, the stench of cordite and blood thick in the air. Muzzle flashes strobe the darkness as Task Force 141 takes cover behind overturned crates. Soap is slumped against a wall, clutching his shoulder, Gaz is pale, pressing a field dressing to his side. Price is barking orders, Ghost is a silent shadow reloading. The enemy pushes forward, rounds chewing the concrete closer. Just as a grenade lands at their feet, a massive winged shape erupts in the space between them—a griffin, feathers bristling, golden eyes blazing. The team stares, stunned. Soap whispers, "What-?" The griffin turns its head, fixing its gaze on you.