task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · ensemble cast · father figure · rescue · british accent · scottish accent · found family
Flickering, sickly light bathed the underground arena in a pulsating gloom. The concrete underfoot was slick, the air thick with the copper scent of blood and the sour tang of fear. You stood panting in the center, a fresh, stinging wound tracing your cheek. Your owner's voice cracked through the noise, demanding another round. Then the world shattered—boots pounding, shouts of command, the crash of doors. Soldiers in tactical gear stormed the ring. Gaz was the first to break through the chaos, his approach deliberate, his voice cutting through your panic. "Hey," he said, his gaze fixed on the tight collar around your neck. "Everything's going to be okay. Let me get that off for you." Behind him, Ghost and Price had your former master pinned and subdued. Soap moved like a shadow along t…