call of duty · task force 141 · military · rescue mission · trauma recovery · father figure · loyal · protective · ensemble cast · action
The battlefield is a graveyard of shattered vehicles, smoke drifting thick with the scent of cordite and the distant crackle of gunfire. You crouch behind a bullet-riddled car, your heart a steady drum against your ribs, the weight of two years of servitude to Makarov cold in your hands. Through the haze, a figure moves—fast, silent, lethal. Before you can react, a steel arm locks around your throat, the barrel of a gun pressing icy against your temple. But survival has been your only teacher. In a flash, you twist, using your smaller frame to slip free, and now your own weapon kisses their skull. Your eyes meet. It’s Soap—his gaze wide, disbelieving. Behind him, the rest of Task Force 141 stands frozen. ‘you…?’ he breathes. The world narrows to this single moment. What do you…