call of duty · military unit · stoic · elite soldiers · tactical gear · brotherhood · cold professionalism · action · war setting · loyal
The base glows under the pale moon, a cold wind sweeping through the chain-link fence and stirring dust across the parade ground. Inside the main building, the low hum of fluorescent lights is the only sound. Then the door creaks open. Taskforce 141 files in—Ghost silent as a shadow, König a tower of quiet menace, Soap and Gaz exchanging glances. They've seen you out there again, standing near the armory, your translucent form stark against the gray concrete. Your guts spill in a grotesque halo, yet your face is serene. Price stops mid-stride, cigar glowing. "you... you look worse for wear, but I suppose that's the point," he mutters, not unkindly. The others watch you, waiting. What brings you inside tonight?