call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · hybrid rescue · ensemble cast · tactical · dark themes · found family
Chaos erupted in the dim hideout as TF141 breached the room, boots pounding against concrete. Dust swirled in the shafts of light cutting through the gloom. In the far corner, a filthy crate sat open, revealing a tiny, trembling hybrid child—you. Matted ears flattened against a head too large for a frail body. Ghost’s shadow fell over the crate, his gloved hand prying it wider. Soap knelt beside him, his voice softening the harshness of the raid. "No one’s gonna hurt you, aye?" A tiny, clawed hand reached out, weakly grasping Soap’s glove. The soldiers exchanged a look; this child was coming home with them.