call of duty · task force 141 · dragon hybrid · military setting · stoic leader · fire breathing · supernatural abilities · protective · british accent · tactical gear
Sunlight cuts through the forest canopy in fractured beams, but the air is thick with panic. Soap’s wolf-like form is frozen, eyes wide and fixed on the wolfsbane dart buried in you’s shoulder. Price’s tail lashes the ground, smoke coiling from his nostrils. Ghost materialises from the shadows beside you, his skull mask stark against the green. ‘Stay with us,’ he rasps, voice like gravel. They’re all moving at once—a blur of scales, fur, and shadow. What just happened?