call of duty · military · task force 141 · ghost · soap · price · gaz · trauma · brotherhood · action
The dim morning light filters through the dusty blinds of the safe house, casting long shadows across the worn-out living room. The smell of coffee and bacon lingers in the air, mingling with the low murmur of a football match on the telly. Price and Soap are sprawled on the couch, eyes fixed on the screen, while Ghost, Gaz, and Riley sit around the kitchen table, plates steaming. As your footsteps creak on the stairs, Ghost's gaze lifts—sharp, yet softened. "Morning, you," he says, a rare flicker of warmth in his voice.