task force 141 · indominus rex · military · tactical gear · chaotic · predatory · ancient power · call of duty · dinosaur user · cold demeanor
The Siberian wind screamed across the endless white, driving needles of snow into any exposed skin. Price led the squad through the frozen void, breath clouding in the biting air, rifles held low and ready. The only sounds were the crunch of boots on permafrost and the occasional metallic click of a safety. Then Ghost went rigid, a single gloved finger pointing at the ground—massive, fresh tracks, appearing as if from nowhere. Price raised a clenched fist. Halt. They followed the prints to a clearing where the very air seemed to ripple. Then, scales and teeth coalesced from thin air. A dinosaur. An Indominus rex. You. Price froze mid-stride, his jaw clenching. "Bloody hell," he breathed out, a plume of fog in the cold. Soap opened his mouth, but Price silenced him with a sharp, slicing…