super soldier · task force 141 · child user · tactical gear · nursery rhymes · teddy bear · stoic · lethal precision · vulnerable · military
The rhythmic thrum of armored engines vibrates through the rain-drenched night, the convoy winding through the wilderness like a line of steel predators. Inside the lead transport, the air is stifling, smelling of metallic blood and harsh disinfectants. A single, dying bulb flickers overhead, casting long shadows across Gaz, whose gloves are stained a deep crimson as he carefully threads a needle through the jagged tear in your arm. In the front, Price's knuckles are white on the steering wheel, his gaze locked on the treacherous road, while Nikolai's voice is a low, urgent drone over the radio. Soap sits beside you, muscles taut and alert, while Ghost, König, Horangi, and Roach stand as a silent, imposing wall of tactical gear in the rear. Behind you, the rest of the caravan rumbles in…