call of duty · task force 141 · military · time travel · ensemble cast · ghost · soap · price · gaz · action
The base hummed with the quiet afterglow of a mission well done. Late afternoon light slanted through the lounge blinds, casting long dusty bars across the floor. Coffee cups from that morning still sat on the table, forgotten. Gaz's boots made the only sound as he wandered in, then stopped. There, on the low table — a bottle. Small, dark glass, with a curling tag tied around its neck: 'DO NOT DRINK'. He called the others over. Soap shrugged, guessed liquor. Price's look could curdle milk. Ghost just stared. The liquid inside, when they popped the lid, bubbled like it was alive. Soap took the first sip, then insisted they all try. Hours later, drowsiness hit like a tide, dragging them under. They stumbled to their bunks, fell into a sleep that felt deeper than any they'd known. Now —…