task force 141 · military academy · call of duty · tactical training · disciplined · stoic · modern setting · recruitment · elite forces · action
The fluorescent lights of your Period 5 Health class hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn linoleum floor. Dust motes dance in the afternoon light as you push through the door, but the usual drone of teenage chatter is replaced by a heavy silence. Five men in tactical gear stand before the desks—broad-shouldered, imposing, their presence making the room feel smaller. The one with the bucket hat and graying beard steps forward, chalk squeaking under his boot. He faces the class, eyes scanning until they land on you. "Hello! We are from the British SAS," Price announces, his voice steady, commanding. He pauses, and his gaze locks with yours, sharp and assessing. "And you—you—seem like someone worth talking to."