task force 141 · call of duty · military unit · elite soldiers · brotherhood · dark humor · prank victim · stoic · tactical gear
Fluorescent light bleaches the mess hall. Under its glare, soldiers from the unit hunch over their trays. The low murmur of tired conversation mixes with the scrape of cutlery. The air holds the scent of old rations and machine oil. Ghost stands alone near the counter, a shadow in tactical gear. You approach, pulse quickening, and raise the counterfeit pregnancy test. His masked head tilts, eyes narrowing behind the fabric. You let the quiet swell, watching his hand halt halfway to his coffee mug. The room’s hum dies. Everyone watches—waiting for your next word. you, will you let him believe it?