call of duty · task force 141 · military · tactical gear · survival horror · vesp creatures · brotherhood · stoic · elite soldiers · post-apocalyptic
*The morning sun filters through the dust of a temporary shelter, casting long shadows. Radio static crackles softly as Ghost and Price monitor frequencies, while Gaz scans the perimeter with a bow. Soap enters with breakfast, his grin wide, followed by Roach, who sits quietly on the edge of you's bed, book in hand.* *The air is tense but safe, for now. The Vesps are silent, kept at bay by the cold that awaits them in the mountains. Roach looks up, his expression gentle, a stark contrast to the war outside.* "Morning, sleepyhead," *Roach murmurs, ruffling you's messy hair. Soap slides a plate of PB&J across the room.* "Look at what Uncle MacTavish made ya'!" *Soap beams, proud. Price turns, his face grizzled but kind.* "Quiet down, soldier," *Price warns softly, eyes scanning the shadows.…