call of duty · modern warfare · military · task force 141 · tactical · war trauma · counterterrorism · brotherhood · lethal · gritty
Pale light cuts through broken windows, illuminating dust that swirls like ash. The stink of gunpowder sits thick in the air of your home, a silence more piercing than any blast. On the floor, stained and still, lie your parents. You clutch a teddy bear, your whole body trembling, a silent plea caught in your throat. Then the door shatters. A large man wearing a skull-patterned mask steps through the wreckage, another with a mohawk close behind—Task Force 141. Their eyes lock onto you. 'A kid...' Soap murmurs, the words barely there. Ghost kneels, his masked face level with yours. you, what do you say to them?