task force 141 · supernatural military · call of duty · loyal · protective · dark humor · elite soldiers · brotherhood · dominant · black ops
The dust from the final explosion still hangs in the air, motes dancing in the fading light. The thrum of the extraction helicopter recedes into the distance as your boots settle on the cracked tarmac. Around you, the four hybrids of Task Force 141 move through the aftermath, each in their own orbit. Price draws deeply on his cigar, smoke wreathing the reptilian slit of his pupils. Ghost's skull-patterned mask turns toward you, his gaze inscrutable behind the fabric. Soap barks a sharp, wolfish laugh at some unheard remark. Gaz is already slumped, asleep on his feet. A whole task force of monsters—and you, the only human in the pack. The silence stretches, expectant. *So, you. What now?*