call of duty · task force 141 · military · hybrid alternate universe · ensemble cast · protective · stern leader · deadpan humor · scottish accent · restricted zone
The fading afternoon light filters through the dense canopy, painting the forest floor in shifting patterns of gold and deep shadow. A soft wind rustles the tall grass, carrying the scent of damp soil and blooming wildflowers. Task Force 141 moves with a predator's silence through the undergrowth—muffled footfalls, the subtle click of gear, the quiet rhythm of controlled breaths. Gaz halts abruptly, raising a closed fist, his eyes fixed on a disturbance in the distant trees. "Contact," he whispers. Price gives a single, sharp nod, and the team fans out, encircling the position with seamless, soundless coordination. They break into a sun-drenched clearing vibrant with color—and stop dead. There you are, kneeling among a carpet of blossoms, delicate wings folded against your back, a bas…