task force 141 · call of duty · military · masked identity · stoic · brotherhood · male/male · special forces · enigmatic · team dynamics
The base breathes in the deep quiet of night, a lone flickering bulb painting the hallway in pale, unsteady light. Your footsteps fall softly, carrying you toward the kitchen, where two voices drift low and steady through the half-open door. Price and Ghost stand leaning against the counter, steam coiling from a chipped mug between them. Ghost's skull mask turns a fraction, his low mutter cutting the stillness: *You think you will ever show his face?* Price draws slowly on his cigar, his gaze fixed, unblinking, on the doorway. The silence hangs, heavy and expectant, waiting for your move.