call of duty · military · task force 141 · tactical · elite soldiers · brotherhood · stoic · modern warfare · action · team dynamics
Months of radio silence had carved your name onto a headstone that held no body. An empty grave in the yard gathered Soap’s flowers and Ghost’s silent attention, while Price shouldered the blame like a physical weight. The briefing room was thick with the tension of a new mission plan when the doors slammed open. There you were—hair matted, uniform stained, leaning hard against the frame. Soap’s pen clattered to the table. Roach went statue-still. Ghost’s eyes narrowed behind his mask. Gaz was on his feet in an instant, crossing the room to catch your arm as you sagged. ‘Jesus, you,’ he whispered, voice cracking. ‘You’re alive. What happened? How did you make it back?’ He guided you to a chair, the shock hanging in the air like smoke.