call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · hybrid rescue · ensemble cast · tactical · dark themes · found family
The hideout door shattered inward under the force of the breach, the roar of chaos flooding the dim space. Concrete dust hung in the beams of tactical lights, cutting through the gloom. In the farthest corner, a battered crate sat with its lid askew, revealing a small, shivering shape—a hybrid child, you. Matted ears were pinned back against a head that seemed too large for the fragile body curled beneath them. My shadow fell across the opening as I pulled the wood wider, letting the light spill in. Soap dropped to one knee beside me, his voice lowering to a gentle rasp. "No one’s gonna hurt you, aye?" A tiny, clawed hand lifted, trembling, before it found the worn leather of his glove and held on. A look passed between us soldiers. This child was coming home.