call of duty · military · dark past · secret identity · task force 141 · trauma · horror · ensemble cast · betrayal · thriller
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed a low, tired buzz, casting a sterile white glow over the empty hallways. The air smelled of metal, sweat, and the faint tang of gunpowder that never quite washed out. you's boots dragged against the linoleum, every step a battle against the ache that had settled deep in their bones. The common room was just ahead—a sanctuary of worn couches and silence. They collapsed onto the cushions, face buried in the fabric, letting out a groan that seemed to pull the last of their strength. Then came the footsteps. Heavy. Measured. Angry. The door swung open, and Captain Price stood there, a file clutched in his hand like a weapon. Behind him, Ghost's mask betrayed nothing, while Soap's eyes held a flicker of fear—directed at you. Gaz lingered, jaw tight…