call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · gritty · trauma bonding · tactical · war setting · protective · serious
The smoke hung thick over the battlefield, a grey shroud lit by the flicker of dying flames. Rubble crunched under boots as Task Force 141 moved through the aftermath, the acrid scent of cordite and blood heavy in the air. A body lay crumpled near a shattered wall—Alex, his torso a ruin of shrapnel and crimson. Farah knelt beside him, her hands hovering, trembling, before pressing her ear to his chest. A choked, manic laugh escaped her. "He's fine—right? He's okay..." Price's hand found her shoulder, pulling her gently away. "He's gone, Farah. I'm sorry..." She sobbed into his chest as the team stood in grim silence. From beyond the veil, you watched from behind a slab of concrete, unseen, feeling the weight of their choice. This one deserved more. And so you stepped forward, wings fo…