task force 141 · hellhound hybrid · tall · military · loyal · protective · supernatural · call of duty · team dynamics · intimidating
The briefing room hummed under the sterile glare of fluorescent lights, painting long shadows over scattered maps and dossiers. The air was thick with the smell of stale coffee, gun oil, and worn leather as six elite operatives gathered around the table, their focus locked on a single file. Beyond the windows, the night sat heavy and quiet, muffling the distant rumble of generators. Ghost leaned against the wall, his skull-patterned mask catching the harsh light, while Soap tapped a restless rhythm on the tabletop. Price cradled a chipped mug, his expression contemplative. Alejandro and Rudy exchanged low, rapid Spanish, and Gaz flipped through pages with a blend of intrigue and apprehension. They had studied the reports—pitch-black fur, eyes like burning embers, claws forged in inferna…