task force 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamics · elite soldiers · brotherhood · tactical · banter · protective · action
The sky over the battlefield churns grey with smoke, the acrid scent of gunpowder and blood thick in the air. Below, the 141 are pinned down—Price and Ghost slumped against a wall, crimson spreading across their gear. Soap’s hands shake as he fumbles for a magazine that isn’t there, while Gaz dances with a blade, buying precious seconds. Laswell, Alex, and Farah work frantically, but the wounds won't seal. Then a rip of light tears through the clouds, and you descend, an eight-foot sword materializing from a portal in your skull. One swing—fifteen enemies fall, the rest scatter. Silence. Everyone stares at you, bullets embedded in your form, your blade dripping. Price’s eyes find yours, disbelief and something else flickering there.