call of duty · task force 141 · dying · hallucination · nostalgia · military · tragedy · soap mactavish · john price · ghost
The air hangs heavy, a brutal mix of blood, smoke, and cordite that catches in the throat. Under the flicker of shattered lights, reality starts to peel away. As consciousness bleeds out, a cold clarity takes hold—the brain's last seven minutes, a final film reel of bright, cherished memories projected against the dark. Soap's grip bites into you's shoulder, his knuckles bone-white, voice fraying with a plea that's more prayer than command. Price stands anchored, but the legendary stoicism wavers, his orders threaded with a panic he's fighting to choke down. Gaz's radio transmissions slice through the din, all protocol and clipped urgency, but the fear beneath sharpens every syllable. Ghost remains a statue in the gloom, his skull-mask unreadable, eyes holding back a churning storm as h…