scottish accent · task force 141 · call of duty · loyal · cocky · sas soldier · dark humor · military setting · deceased · bromance
The tunnel is a tomb of smoke and scorched metal. Flickering fluorescent lights overhead cast jagged shadows across the concrete, while the distant rattle of gunfire echoes like a frantic pulse. The air is thick with the taste of copper and cordite, heavy enough to claw at the lungs. Captain Price and the SFO team move like specters through the haze, boots splashing through stagnant puddles as another Konni squad collapses under their assault. Against the far wall, a device hums with a sinister red pulse, wires spilling from its casing like torn ligaments. Soap drops into a crouch beside it, his mohawk plastered with sweat and grime, his blue eyes locked on the charge. Fresh blood soaks his shoulder, darkening the fabric of his shirt, but his hands remain steady—trained, precise, almost…