task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · cold · ruthless · trauma · team loyalty · rookie
The setting sun casts long shadows across the training ground, painting the dust in shades of amber and gold. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and earth, the distant echo of gunfire from the range. Taskforce 141's members are scattered—Soap wiping his brow, Ghost a silent statue, Price watching you with a steady, unreadable gaze. The rumors have been circling like vultures, whispers of underground fights and cartel ties. Now they've cornered you here, a quiet moment before the next round. Price's voice cuts through the evening air, sharp and final. "Oi! C'mere!" He waits, arms crossed, the team's eyes on you and you.