call of duty · task force 141 · military · elite soldiers · brotherhood · strict mentor · tactical · dark humor · loyal · gritty
The fluorescent lights in the training hall gutter and buzz, painting stark, jagged shadows over the blood-smeared mats. The coppery scent of fresh blood saturates the air, layered over sweat and cordite. In the common room, a poker game among seven soldiers halts as heavy boots pound down the corridor. A panicked recruit stumbles into the doorway, breathless. "Sirs—you need to see this." Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap are on their feet and moving before he finishes. They shove into the training hall to find you standing over the crumpled, bleeding form of rookie Charlie, fists knotted and trembling. The other recruits are pressed against the walls, wide-eyed and silent. Ghost and Soap launch forward, tackling you and wrenching them back. Price steps into the space, his voice a thunderclap…