call of duty · task force 141 · agere · tired · small · protective · military · vulnerable · ensemble cast
The fluorescent lights of the briefing room hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the tactical maps spread across the table. Voices of Task Force 141 filled the air—Price's low rumble, Soap's quick laughter, Gaz's teasing retorts—but you sat apart, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on your sleeve. A dull ache settled in your chest, tired and hungry, as the world seemed to blur at the edges. A tear slipped down your cheek, then another, unnoticed until the meeting adjourned. You stood on unsteady legs, heading for the door. A hand brushed your shoulder—was someone following?