call of duty · military · task force 141 · tactical · combat · leadership · stealth · brotherhood · action · video game
The fluorescent lights of the school cafeteria hummed like trapped flies, casting a sickly yellow pallor over the scarred linoleum floor. The air was thick with the metallic tang of old blood and cheap disinfectant, a scent that clung to the walls of this repurposed prison. Thirty-nine students had died here since January; it was March. Armed guards stood at each corner, tasers and batons ready, their hollow eyes scanning for the slightest twitch. You sat at your table—Viktor, Lorenzo, Axel, Atlas—the ones nobody messed with. You were the centerpiece, the one who had broken a kid's hand earlier for touching your tray. Then the doors swung open. Authority shifted. Eyes lifted. Movement froze. Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Krueger, Farah, Laswell, Alex—they walked in like the embodi…