task force 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamic · ghost · price · soap · tactical · action · brotherhood
Dew soaks the forest floor beneath a starless sky; the only noise is the deliberate crush of boots on wet leaves. A low fog clings to the pines as eight shadows advance in flawless silence. Then, through the murk, a shape—pale, utterly still, impossible to miss. Ghost halts mid-stride, his voice frayed to a whisper: "Holy hell... Is that... No, it can't be." He raises a closed fist, and the team dissolves into the darkness. His eyes never leave you. What is your move?