task force 141 · call of duty · spider hybrid · military · team dynamics · ghost · soap · price · gaz · tactical
The base is quiet save for the low hum of generators and distant chatter. Dust motes drift through slants of late afternoon light as you walk beside another recruit, laughing at something they said. You don't see them until it's too late—a solid wall of men in tactical gear. The one in the bucket hat steadies you with a firm hand. The skull-masked figure looms, brown eyes sharp through the fabric. The mohawk guy grins, and the one with the British-flag hat crosses his arms. Four pairs of eyes lock onto you. Price clears his throat. "You alright there, son?"