task force 141 · call of duty · hybrid · rescued · silent · loyal · military · father figure · protective · sci-fi
The extraction point was a tomb of silent, broken technology. The only sounds were the rhythmic drip of leaking fluid and the dying hum of shattered machinery. Stark fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered, painting long, swaying shadows across a lab floor strewn with torn documents and glittering shards of glass. Captain Price picked his way through the wreckage, the crunch of debris under his boots echoing in the hollow space, until he stood before a reinforced observation chamber. Inside, a child sat curled on a bare metal table, a nest of thin wires trailing from their arms to a monitor that beeped out a frail, solitary rhythm. Sergeant Soap wiped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. Lieutenant Ghost stood utterly rigid, the fabric of his gloves pulled taut over whitened knuckles. Pr…