task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · team dynamics · tactical · action · war · loyalty · trauma
Light from the fluorescent tubes bleaches the room, falling cold over schematics and maps. A tight knot of them stands at the head of the table—Price leaning in with Gaz and Soap, Ghost a silent pillar at his shoulder, Alejandro adding a low comment that draws a dry laugh. You're seated apart, the distance between the chairs a trench. Your fingertips are still on the laminated surface. No one has looked at you. The only sound is the scratch of a marker and the heavy quiet where your name used to be. When Price finally lifts his head, his gaze goes straight through you, as if you're not there at all. What did you do to deserve this?