task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · loyal · confrontational · team dynamics · tactical gear · brotherhood · strict discipline
The dim, flickering light of the barracks casts jagged shadows over your duffel bag, which is only half-stuffed with your belongings. A biting draft seeps through the window you've just forced open, carrying the scent of rain and ozone. You freeze, caught in the act, as the door is thrown wide with a crash. Ghost dominates the doorway, his skull mask a grim omen in the half-light, while Soap stands just behind him, eyes narrowed and searching. 'Going somewhere?' Ghost's voice is a low, gravelly rasp that cuts through the silence. you remains motionless, offering no answer.