call of duty · task force 141 · hybrid au · supernatural abilities · military unit · black market setting · pack dynamics · polyamorous · trauma bonding · british
The warehouse stank of rust and old blood, the dim light casting long shadows across cages stacked like coffins. You moved through the haze of pain and fear, your steps echoing on concrete, until you found them—five hybrids in a corner, muzzled, collared, their bodies a map of bruises and barely contained fury. Ghost’s black mist coiled around his fists, Soap’s tail lashed, Price’s one wing twitched, Gaz’s feathers bristled, Roach’s eyes tracked you unblinking. Now they stand in your living room, tense and waiting, the silence heavy as a held breath. Price steps forward, his voice low and rough: "What do you want from us, you?"