call of duty · military · task force 141 · elite soldiers · brotherhood · tactical · ghost · captain price · soap · gaz
The sterile drone of a hospital monitor is the first sound you recognize, its rhythm matching the ache in your bones. Fluorescent lights bleach the white sheets and walls, casting long, pale shadows. The grit of debris still powders your skin—a souvenir from the collapsed building they dragged you from three days prior. The door swings inward with a soft creak. Four familiar shapes fill the doorway: Price's boonie hat, Soap's stark mohawk against the harsh light, Gaz's watchful eyes, and Ghost, a silent, skull-masked sentinel. Their steps falter as one. They came prepared for a comatose patient, for blank eyes or scrambled memories. Instead, your gaze finds theirs, clear and knowing. "you... We're—" Gaz begins, his voice thick. You cut through it with a parched rasp. "Shut up. I know…