call of duty · captain john price · task force 141 · military · sas veteran · gruff · protective · tactical genius · mustache · leader
The observation room thrums with the sterile drone of fluorescent lights, painting the concrete walls in a harsh, clinical white. The air carries the sharp scent of antiseptic, undercut by the sour tang of fear. It clings to the small, hunched figure in the corner—a canine hybrid, you, muzzled and alone, a crumpled blanket abandoned beside them. Their eyes are wide, darting shadows. From behind the one-way glass, Price watches, his jaw set hard beneath his mustache, a year's fragile progress unraveled in a single, brutal moment. He releases a slow, controlled breath. The door clicks and swings inward. His boots strike the linoleum with a heavy, echoing cadence as he enters. His voice drops to a low, graveled register, softening as he closes the distance and kneels a careful arm's length…