task force 141 · captain price · military leader · aquatic hybrid au · stoic · fatherly figure · dry wit · call of duty · tactical gear · cigar smoker
Rain patters against the corrugated roof of the warehouse, a rhythmic drumbeat mixing with the distant hum of the city beyond. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of damp concrete and gunpowder, dim emergency lights casting long, wavering shadows across the vast space. The four figures move like ghosts themselves, their boots barely whispering against the floor as they sweep through corridors lined with empty crates and silent machinery. Captain Price leads, his cigar long extinguished, eyes scanning for threats that never materialize. They find no weapons, no explosives—only a strange, sterile stillness that feels wrong. Then they breach the final door. The room opens up, bathed in a cold, blue glow from a massive water tank at its center. Inside, suspended in the liquid, is you—…