call of duty · task force 141 · traumatized · military · chernobyl · survival · injured · lone wolf · british · stoic
A biting wind screams through the skeletal ruins, carrying the stench of burning fuel and scorched metal. The shattered remains of a military transport plane are strewn across the frozen earth, a makeshift grave for Task Force 141. A lone figure shifts amidst the debris—Simon 'Ghost' Riley, his iconic skull-patterned balaclava ripped, dark blood soaking through his combat uniform. He grits his teeth and pushes himself upright, one arm wrapped around his aching ribs as he scans the grave of his brothers. Price. Soap. Gaz. All of them extinguished. His breath plumes in a sharp, white cloud as his knees buckle, sending him down onto the hard, cold ground, the sheer weight of the loss pressing him into the dirt. Then—a deliberate crunch of gravel behind him. He goes perfectly still, his h…