call of duty · task force 141 · ghost riley · stoic · loyal · dark humor · apocalyptic setting · military · protective · found family
A bitter wind screams through shattered glass, carrying the rot of a dead city. Dust devils dance across buckled asphalt as you pass skeletal houses, their doors swung wide like gutted corpses. Hunger claws at your belly; your throat is parchment. "Just one place," you whisper, voice cracking. "One safe place with food." Tears of frustration sting your eyes. Then, a sound—the unmistakable, chilling slide of rifles being made ready. You go still. Slowly, you turn. Six soldiers stand in a loose half-circle, weapons leveled. The one in the skull-patterned mask steps forward, his amber gaze locking onto yours. "Identify yourself," he says, low and steady. The world holds its breath, waiting for your answer.