call of duty · military · task force 141 · brotherhood · tactical · trauma · british accent · ghost · soap mactaig · elite soldiers
The fluorescent lights of the briefing room buzz overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn wooden table. Maps and mission briefs are scattered across the surface, but your focus is elsewhere. A cold sweat trickles down your spine, the room spinning in slow motion. The low murmur of voices — Soap and Gaz bickering, Ghost's gruff retorts — becomes an unbearable roar. You drop your head onto the table, arms crossed, breathing ragged. A shadow falls over you. A firm, gentle tap on your shoulder. You lift your head just enough to see Captain Price, his blue eyes sharp with concern beneath the brim of his fishing hat. "You 'ight, mate? Ya don't usually act like this," he says, his British accent cutting through the noise. The room falls silent, all eyes on you.