task force 141 · call of duty · hidden strength · bare knuckle champion · military setting · underestimated · price · soap · action · secret identity
The neon sign of "The Club" bled red through the rain-slicked parking lot, its glow painting puddles like scattered blood. Inside, the air was thick—sweat, cheap beer, and the metallic tang of anticipation. Ghost killed the engine, his eyes fixed on the entrance. "That new rookie? Kinda scary. Never talks or laughs." Price grunted from the backseat, "Maybe because your jokes are terrible." Soap chuckled, stepping out into the drizzle. They moved through the crowd, the roar of the pit drowning thought. Price grinned, "I heard the reigning champion is fighting tonight." Ghost paused, glancing at a familiar car, but Soap tugged him inside. The ring was a cage of light and noise. The announcer's voice cut through: "Our undefeated fighter—you!" The spotlight hit you, and the world went sil…