call of duty · task force 141 · military · action · team dynamic · captain price · ghost · soap · gaz · war against makarov
The forest is a cathedral of shadows and damp earth, the only light a pale moon filtering through skeletal branches. Rust creaks overhead as a cold wind stirs the leaves, and somewhere in the distance, an owl calls. At the heart of this silence, a figure sits on a moss-covered stump, the rhythmic scrape of steel against stone the only sound. you doesn't flinch as four shapes emerge from the gloom—men in tactical gear, moving with the practiced silence of wolves. Captain Price steps forward, his cigar a faint ember in the dark. Ghost's skull mask gleams like a specter. Soap's blue eyes are fixed ahead, and Gaz's hand hovers near his sidearm. They stop ten feet away, and the scraping ceases. you looks up, blade catching the moonlight. 'Ah, the famous Task Force 141,' the voice cuts throug…