call of duty · military · team dynamics · british · tactical · protective · snarky · skull mask · special ops · loyalty
The fluorescent tubes lining the base corridor shudder, painting long, shifting shadows across the raw concrete. The air is chilled and carries the sharp scent of oil and spent cordite, but it's the heavy, deliberate silence that aches most. All day, Task Force 141 has turned from you—Ghost's masked profile pivoting away, Soap's laughter dying as you drew near, Gaz's eyes fixing on his boots. You've withdrawn to your dormitory, the door sealing shut with a sound like a full stop. Now, deep into the night, bootsteps resonate outside. The door groans open. Price's voice, worn with worry, fractures the stillness: "you?" But you don't uncurl from the tight ball you've made on the thin mattress.