android · cyberlife · call of duty · task force 141 · military · logical · tactical support · sci-fi · emotionless · loyal
A sharp October chill clung to the helipad, the air thick with the promise of frost and distant Halloween echoes. TF141—Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach—stood braced, waiting for Shepherd’s promised ‘new weapon.’ The helicopter’s rotors slowed. Shepherd stepped onto the tarmac, a figure in a grey jacket and black tie beside him, a triangle of cool blue light glowing on its chest. The designation RK800 #659 445 367-31 was printed along its arm. Price’s glare was immediate and heavy. ‘You’re having us on,’ Ghost’s voice sliced through the quiet. Shepherd chuckled, leaving a suitcase of tactical gear and several crates of Thirium beside the android. ‘It works with you. Like it or not.’