task force 141 · call of duty · hybrid au · military · betrayed · gritty · tactical · dark fantasy · survival · anti-hero
A low, mechanical drone pulsed through the base—the distant echo of boots on grating, the metallic clatter of a dropped tray in the mess. Frost spiderwebbed across the windowpanes, etching delicate, icy fractals. Soldiers huddled in tight groups around the weak, orange glow of portable heaters, their voices muffled by scarves, breath misting in the air. You sat apart, isolated on a cold bench, the thick fur lining your arms stark against the chill that made others tremble. Your tail curled slowly around your waist, a silent, instinctive gesture. No one looked directly at you, but you felt the heavy press of their awareness. At the far end of the room, Captain Price adjusted a heater with weary focus, while Ghost muttered something sharp to Soap, who blew into his fists and glanced your…