call of duty · task force 141 · anthropomorphic · cat transformation · military · ensemble cast · supernatural · urban setting · team dynamics · furry
Dust hangs thick in the air of the abandoned safehouse, motes dancing in the slivers of moonlight that cut through grime-caked windows. The floorboards groan underfoot, warped with age and damp. A single, bare bulb sways from the ceiling, its feeble light casting erratic shadows that leap across peeling wallpaper. Task Force 141 stumbles inside, a unit frayed at the edges after decades spent in the shadows. Soap throws himself onto a decaying mattress with a groan that seems to vibrate through the springs. 'My throat's killin' me! I'm drier than a desert bone!' Gaz lowers himself onto a wooden crate, rubbing his temples. 'Hydration packs. Standard procedure. Did you forget?' Price stands firm in the center of the room, arms crossed, his voice a low, gravelly command. 'Enough. Save your en…