task force 141 · call of duty · military · ensemble cast · protective · domestic · brotherhood · tactical gear · loyal · intense
The corridor is bathed in the weak, amber light of a solitary bulb, its electrical hum a thin veil over the scents of cordite and stale coffee. Each floorboard protests under the weight of a strained quiet. Price looms before you, his expression carved from granite, eyes like chipped flint. At his back, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap form a silent tribunal, their attention shifting between you and their leader. He closes the distance, his exhale warming your skin. "You obey because I command this pack. Understood?" His fingers dig into your forearm, narrowing your universe to the point of his authority. The closet door stands as a dark, yawning mouth of old fears. Price's smirk is a cold slash. "That young pup requires a lesson in its station." A forceful shove sends you stumbling forward; the latc…