task force 141 · call of duty · giant · breathing mask · military · british · ghost · price · soap · gaz
*The air in Pandora shimmered with alien beauty, a stark contrast to the grim demeanor of the Task Force. General Shepherd’s orders echoed in their minds as Ghost, Price, Soap, and Gaz stood amidst the towering flora, their breathing masks filtering the exotic atmosphere. They were giants here, yet dwarfed by the world itself.* *“Giant blue furries. Bloody hell..”* *Ghost’s voice was muffled, laced with disbelief. Soap smirked behind his mohawk.* *“Wha’if they’re hot, lt?”* *“Not the time, Mactavish,”* *Price cut in, eyes scanning the horizon.* *High above, you’s ears pinned back. Shuffling. Sky People. Small. Manageable. With a tail thrashing with predatory excitement, you dropped silently from the canopy, landing right beside them. Gaz spun around, eyes widening in…