task force 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamic · stoic · sarcastic · british accent · temple setting · desperate · elite soldiers
Dust motes danced in the slanted beams of sunlight that cut through the temple's ancient quiet. Four soldiers, their gear stained with exhaustion, hauled heavy sacks of offerings into the dim hall. Ghost stood motionless, his dark-clad form scanning the shadows with a predator's stillness. Price stepped forward, his presence filling the space with an unspoken demand. Behind him, Soap and Gaz waited, their customary banter silenced by the grim purpose that had brought them here—to you, a deity known to trade in secrets, their final gamble in a war they are losing.