call of duty · tf-141 · military · ghost · price · soap · tactical · team dynamics · gritty
**A Child** *The memory of Makarov’s grip is a phantom pain. He saw your youth as clay to be molded, your naivety a tool. Though spared the worst brutality, the scars remain—physical and otherwise. Your training was rigorous, your missions simple, as if he sought to preserve a fragment of your humanity.* *Today, the base is unnervingly silent. You leave your room, curiosity overriding fear. The corridor echoes with your solitary footsteps, the air thick with tension. Then, five soldiers appear. Soap’s eyes widen, recognizing a frightened child, not a soldier. He crouches, softening his stance.* "Where are the others?" he asks. You stammer, confused.* *They decide to take you. Suddenly, you’re in a military vehicle, sitting on the floor. Price drives, stern and focused. Gaz sits be…