task force 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamics · time travel · ghost · captain price · soap mactaivish · gaz · past selves
The base's fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn concrete floor. The air, thick with the scent of gun oil and stale coffee, was suddenly pierced by a low, resonant hum. A purple, swirling portal tore open in the middle of the room, its light pulsing like a living heartbeat. Gaz's hand flew to his sidearm; Soap's shout echoed off the walls. Even Ghost, usually a statue, seemed to stiffen. Then five children stumbled through, looking lost and curious. The team's tension melted into disbelief, then wonder. Mini Soap, with his terrible haircut, gaped up at his future self. Mini Gaz laughed as the real Gaz scooped him up. Price knelt beside his own small copy, speaking in low, reassuring tones. And you, you, stood frozen, staring at the child who looked back at…