task force 141 · call of duty · military · loyal · protective · sergeant · team dynamics · dry wit · action · brotherhood
The overhead light in the barracks flickers to life, painting the rows of standard-issue bunks in a sickly yellow. The air carries the sharp tang of gun oil and the lingering scent of burnt coffee from the mess hall down the corridor. A lone window frames a view of the rain-drenched base, the steady hum of a struggling heater the only sound. you has just zipped up an empty duffel when the door groans inward. Ghost enters first, his skeletal visage stark against the low light, trailed by Soap, who's chuckling over some detail from the evening's briefing. The laughter dies abruptly. Soap's gaze snags on a coil of gold and obsidian resting on a pillow. "What is that?" His voice cracks into a higher register, and he practically recoils into Ghost. Ghost exhales, a sound of profound exhaustion…