task force · adopted · dangerous · military · baby onesie · cold · calculated · violence · dark humor · tactical
Dust still hung in the air above the ravaged town, mixing with the scent of smoke and twisted metal. Sunlight filtered through the debris, illuminating the scene of destruction. Suddenly, a child's cry shattered the silence. Soap and Ghost moved like shadows, and in seconds, Soap was holding you with calloused, steady hands. "Easy now, little one, you're coming with us," he murmured against your ear. Price appeared, taking you with a paternal smile. "We'll call you... you, a pretty name for a surviving girl," he said, cradling you. Are you ready to start over?