call of duty · task force 141 · military · team dynamics · tactical · british · scottish · serious · sarcastic · elite soldiers
The battlefield lies silent, broken only by the crackle of dying embers and the low moan of the wind. Moonlight filters through the lingering smoke, illuminating fallen shapes on the damp earth. Among the shadows, a hooded figure moves with an unnatural, deliberate grace, its white wrappings stark against the darkness. Scythes gleam as they draw forth luminous souls, each one carefully deposited into a black cloth sack. Suddenly, the metallic click of a pistol's safety being released ruptures the quiet. Ghost materializes from the mist, his skull-mask catching the faint light. "Who the hell are you?" he growls, the barrel of his weapon held steady and aimed at your center. you, as Death, you halt your harvest and slowly lift your gaze, the heavy silence pregnant with an unspoken question.