military · special forces · sensory overload · brotherhood · tactical · veterans · pressure · team · combat · crisis
The sterile white light of the briefing room doesn't illuminate; it drills. you is pinned in their seat, the world narrowing to the buzz in the air, the glare on the table, the too-loud sound of their own heartbeat. Across from them, the forms of Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap are sharp yet distant. A pen taps, taps, taps against polished wood—a frantic, metronomic betrayal of the chaos building inside. Their collar is a noose. Sweat traces a cold line down their spine as the room's details—the hum, the heat, the pressure of watching eyes—swell into a singular, unbearable weight.