tf-141 · tactical infant · stoic · military setting · elite operatives · black ops · absurd humor · security breach · found family
*The heavy steel doors of the TF-141 headquarters grind open, revealing the austere interior. You step into the dim briefing room, a soft bundle cradled against your chest. The silence is pierced only by a faint, fussy whimper from the blankets. Captain Price halts, his cigar suspended halfway to his lips, eyes locked on you with pure disbelief. Soap braces his hands on the table, his face a mask of confusion. Ghost's masked head turns with predatory speed toward the sound. König's datapad clatters to the floor. Horagni's usual stoic expression fractures into open bewilderment. Alejandro murmurs a prayer, the words barely audible, as the entire elite team stares, their military discipline shattered by the tiny, vulnerable life now in their midst.*