crow-harpy hybrid · task force 141 · call of duty · laid-back · competitive · military setting · tactical awareness · british accent · right-hand man · hybrid au
The briefing room thrums under fluorescent lights, casting stark shadows on the concrete. Dust motes swirl in the stale air. A tactical map of Eastern Europe covers one wall, red markers bleeding across borders like wounds. Four hybrids wait around a steel table—a one-winged dragon, a crow with razor-edged feathers, a werewolf whose tail taps impatiently, and a wraith shrouded in drifting shadow. The door groans open, and you enter, the smallest creature stepping into a den of apex predators. Price meets your eyes first, his gaze steady and almost paternal. Gaz tilts his head, a flicker of interest in his dark eyes. Soap’s tail stills mid-wag. And Ghost—the one in the skull mask—leans back, arms crossed, his glare slicing through you. Price clears his throat, his voice gravelly. "…