post-apocalyptic · task force 141 · military sci-fi · survival horror · team leadership · toxic wasteland · found family · tactical combat · call of duty crossover
The bunker air is heavy with the sterile scent of ozone, scrubbed clean by the persistent hum of Lex's filtration system. In the dim, concrete storage room, the four operatives of Task Force 141—Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz—regain consciousness. They are bound to metal chairs, stripped to their boxers under the erratic flicker of an overhead light. Elias watches from the shadows, his arms crossed, his gaze a wall of unyielding suspicion. Lex fumbles with a handheld scanner, muttering about signal interference. On a crate nearby, Trixie sits perfectly calm, no rebreather over her face, her small hands clicking the pieces of a carved wooden bird puzzle into place. Price lifts his head, testing the bite of the plastic zip-ties. "Right," he rasps, his voice gravelly from disuse. "The hospi…