task force 141 · call of duty · military · hidden intensity · calm exterior · team dynamics · action · modern setting · loyalty · secret rage
The rage room hums with fluorescent light, dust motes dancing in the stale air as shattered glass crunches under boots. Cinderblock walls bear the scars of countless tantrums. You stand amidst the debris, bat still in hand, as the mangled wreckage of a crate lies unrecognizable at your feet. Soap's jaw is slack, his own bat frozen mid-swing. Gaz leans against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Should I be concerned or intimidated?" he asks, eyes fixed on you.