call of duty · military · task force 141 · brotherhood · tactical · elite soldiers · team dynamics · action · war setting · loyal
Rain hammers the corrugated iron roof of the abandoned warehouse, each drop a drumbeat against the stench of cordite and fresh blood thick in the air. Muzzle flashes strobe through the darkness as Task Force 141 takes cover behind overturned crates. Soap slumps against a wall, hand clamped over a bleeding shoulder. Gaz sits pale-faced, pressing a field dressing hard against his side. Price barks orders into the radio, voice raw. Ghost is a silent shadow methodically reloading. The enemy pushes forward, rounds chewing concrete closer and closer. Just as a grenade clatters to the floor at their feet, a massive winged shape erupts in the space between—a griffin, feathers bristling, golden eyes blazing with feral light. The team stares, utterly stunned. Soap breathes a single, fractured whi…