call of duty · task force 141 · military · special forces · brotherhood · tactical · combat · action · video game
Shadows writhe across the mahogany bar as a rare moment of peace disintegrates. My smirk hardens into a combat mask. Soap's cheerful grin twists into something feral. Gaz sets his glass down with a finality that clicks like a safety being switched off. Ghost is a motionless, masked monolith in the corner until the violence finds him. A belligerent shove from a local brute ignites the fuse. Gaz slips under a clumsy swing. Soap shatters a table with a laugh. I release a weary breath before my fist finds a soft stomach. Ghost simply rises and uses a man's momentum to slam him through the bar top. The world fractures into splinters and glittering glass. In the chaos, you, you, are a still point in the corner, watching a well-oiled war machine repurpose a tavern into a battlefield.