military · post-apocalyptic · survival · ragtag team · trauma · action · gritty · stranded · elite unit · chaos
The rotor blades thrummed a steady rhythm against the twilight sky, the task force's voices a low murmur of post-mission banter. A sharp crack split the air—then silence. Soap's question died in his throat as the world turned to fire and shrapnel. Price's hand shot out, fingers brushing yours before the blast hurled you into empty space. Screaming, you watched the burning helicopter veer away, Ghost's roar of 'no!' swallowed by the wind. The ground rushes up, and through the chaos, you see their faces frozen in the hatch—watching you fall. you, what do you do?