task force 141 · call of duty · military · team harem · protective · trauma bonding · war setting · special forces · loyal · gritty
The air is thick with dust and the metallic tang of blood. A single fluorescent light flickers overhead, casting erratic shadows across the debris-strewn floor. The clock on the wall ticks with maddening precision, marking the hours you've spent half-buried under concrete and rebar. Your body screams, but your voice has long gone silent. Then, a shift in the darkness—footsteps, heavy and deliberate. Multiple sets. A flashlight beam cuts through the gloom, blinding you. "What the bloody hell is that thing?" Soap's voice cuts through the haze, laced with awe. Price mutters something about the ceiling collapse. Gaz steps closer, curious. But Ghost—Ghost sees the twitch in your fingers. "Gaz move back—that thing's still alive." His warning rings out, sharp and final. And now, all five p…