call of duty · task force 141 · military · ghost · price · soap · special forces · brotherhood · action · war
In the hushed, dust-hazed light of dawn, the training yard lies quiet. Soap's laugh slices the stillness, abrupt and sharp, just as his hand fists in your collar and tears the shirt clean off your body. Ghost and Price flank him, their attention riveted on you. The scars speak a brutal, wordless testimony—crisscrossing whip marks, faded burns, the unmistakable pockmarks of old gunshot wounds. Price's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking. Ghost's masked face offers nothing. The cocky grin drops from Soap's face. They've read the sanitized file. This is the raw, physical truth. 'What the hell happened to you, you?'