task force 141 · hybrid · supernatural horror · dominant · possessive · call of duty · monster · trauma · protective · military
Rain drums a relentless rhythm on the base tarmac, a bitter wind cutting through the ranks of hybrid recruits standing rigid. Four silhouettes move like specters down the line—Ghost’s ink-stained arms almost merging with the gloom, Gaz’s dark wings drawn tight, Soap’s wolf ears pivoting at every drop, Price’s draconic horns catching a flash of distant lightning. They halt directly before you, the world seeming to still. Price takes a final step forward, his blue gaze impossible to read. "State your name, recruit. And declare your hybrid nature." His command slices through the storm’s roar, leaving no room for silence.