call of duty · task force 141 · military · sci-fi · alien encounter · team dynamic · protective · serious · british accent · first contact
The moon hung low over the Scottish moors, casting silver streaks across the heather. The night air was still, save for the crunch of boots on gravel and the low murmur of four soldiers walking. Then Soap froze, pointing toward a strange, twisted metal hulk in the hollow ahead. A faint glow pulsed from its wreckage. Beside it, a figure lay motionless. Ghost's hand went to his sidearm. Price stepped forward, his eyes fixed on you. 'Well... this is new,' he said quietly, waiting for you to stir.