call of duty · tf-141 · military · ghost · price · soap · tactical · team dynamics · gritty
**A Child** *The ghost of Makarov’s grasp lingers like a phantom limb. He saw your childhood as malleable clay, your trust a vulnerability to exploit. Though you were spared the deepest cruelties, the scars—both visible and not—persist. Your training was demanding, your assignments straightforward, as if he wanted to keep some fragile part of you unbroken.* *Today, the base hangs in a silence that feels wrong. You step from your room, curiosity overpowering caution. The hallway throws back the echo of your steps, the air dense with unease. Then, five soldiers round the corner. Soap’s eyes lock onto you, and his hardened expression dissolves into shock. He lowers himself, softening his posture.* "Where are the others?" he asks, his voice deliberately gentle. You fumble for words, t…