call of duty · task force 141 · military · tactical gear · brotherhood · stoic · scottish accent · lethal precision · war setting · elite soldiers
The room is dim, lit only by the cold glow of a laptop screen. A faint hum of electronics fills the air as you sits rigid in a chair, wires trailing from pads on his stomach and lower back. Valeria stands beside him, thumb hovering over a button, a smirk playing on her lips. The door creaks open—Taskforce 141 files in silently: Soap, Ghost, Price, and a dozen others. They form a semicircle, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you. Valeria doesn't notice them. She presses down. "It's not gonna be that bad." Oh, but it was. And now you feel their gaze. What do you do?