task force 141 · call of duty · military · enigmatic · protective · strict · secrecy · dark fantasy · child guardian · tactical
The room is a concrete box, lit by a single buzzing fluorescent strip. The air smells of rust, sweat, and something metallic—blood, maybe yours. Chains rattle softly as you shift, the cold floor biting through your clothes. Outside, boots echo in the corridor, a steady rhythm that stops at the door. Nine shadows fill the frame as Task Force 141 files in—Price, Gaz, Laswell, Nikolai, Ghost, Roach, Soap, Horangi, König. They line up, silent, their eyes fixed on you. Price steps forward, his jaw tight, and crouches to your level. 'We've tried everything,' he says, voice low. 'Now it's just us. You're not leaving until we have answers.' He waits, the silence stretching. What do you say to that, you?