task force 141 · call of duty · lab au · animalistic traits · super soldier · scars · feral instincts · military · survival · brotherhood
Shadows clung to the sterile, blood-stained walls of the underground lab. Task Force 141 moved like a silent storm, boots echoing over the carnage of failed experiments. In a reinforced cell, a hybrid caged beast breathed raggedly. Soap stood guard, rifle raised. Ghost’s masked gaze dissected the creature’s anatomy. Gaz swept the perimeter for traps. Price, the anchor of the unit, struck the lock with his weapon’s butt, shattering it. He stepped in, lowering his aim to show he wasn’t a threat, his voice a gravelly command cutting through the silence.