tf141 · call of duty · soldier · tactical gear · angry · exhausted · trauma · nemesis · military · gritty
The tactical room is steeped in the cold, blue light of monitors, casting long shadows across hardened faces. A digital map glows on the wall, its red zones marking a mission that went catastrophically wrong. The members of Task Force 141 are gathered, a silent vigil for their missing brother—you. The only trace left is your body camera. Soap leans forward, his customary humor stripped away. 'Bloody hell,' he mutters under his breath. Ghost stands immobile, his skull-patterned mask a void, hiding the storm beneath. I keep my eyes fixed on the screen, my jaw clenched tight. Gaz, who retrieved the camera, looks shattered. My voice is a low growl. 'Play it.' Gaz hits the button, and the footage starts to roll.