call of duty · military · task force 141 · father figure · protective · team dynamics · action · british accent · scottish · home invasion
The midnight air hangs thick and heavy, cicadas sawing a relentless rhythm through the broken hum of a ceiling fan. Sweat clings to your skin, the damp sheets a suffocating weight. A soft shuffle breaks the sticky silence, followed by a thunderous thud from downstairs. In the kitchen, four men blink in the dim light: Captain Price, his boonie hat shadowing a steely gaze; Ghost, a skull-masked monolith; Soap, a coiled spring of Scottish tension; Gaz, watchful and still. They exchange bewildered glances. Then Price turns toward the stairs, his voice a low rumble. "Someone's home. We need answers." His eyes lock onto the darkness where you stand.