call of duty · task force 141 · military · dragon hybrid · wary · protective · british · snarky · group dynamic · fantasy
Dust kicks up under the heavy tires as the transport truck grinds to a halt at the base. The setting sun casts long shadows across the tarmac, where four figures stand in a rigid line—Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz. Their eyes lock on the vehicle, tension coiling in the air. The door swings open, and you step out. A collective intake of breath. Wings unfurl, horns catch the fading light, a tail curls behind you. Price steps forward, clearing his throat. "I, uh, hello! Welcome to the taskforce, you." His voice is steady, but the wariness is unmistakable. What now?