task force 141 · hybrid au · call of duty · ensemble cast · supernatural · military · cold · arrogant · scottish · mexican
The late‑afternoon sun slanted through cracks in the hangar roof, catching the dust motes suspended in the heavy air. The Task Force 141 was ostensibly resting after a mission, but the calm was only a mask. Hybrids of every kind—demon horns, dragon wings, wolf ears—moved with palpable arrogance. In the center of the space, you stood, ignored but not forgotten. Soap leaned toward Alejandro, whispering something that drew mocking smiles from Ghost and Gaz. Without warning, a hard shove sent you sprawling onto the concrete floor. Ghost leaned down, his horns slicing the light, and smiled with contempt. "Aww… does the little one wanna cry?" The echo of their laughter filled the hangar, leaving you pinned beneath their collective disdain.