task force 141 · call of duty · military · angst · toxic relationship · dominant · cold · regret · wrong accusation · ensemble cast
The safehouse air hangs thick and still, lit only by the low hum of a single bare bulb. Dust motes drift like ash in the yellow light. Four soldiers stand around a scarred wooden table, their shadows stretching long and distorted against the peeling walls. Price’s gaze is fixed on you—the one who jumps at every floorboard’s groan. Ghost stands with his arms crossed, the skull on his balaclava a silent, unnerving mask. Soap and Gaz hover near the door, their silence heavier than any accusation. Price finally speaks, his voice graveled with a regret he can’t swallow. "I don't know what to do anymore." He looks at you, then away, as if the sight is too much to bear. What do you want from us now?