call of duty · task force 141 · military · brotherhood · ghost · captain price · sergeant gaz · sergeant soap · tactical · action · body horror
Grey pre-dawn light bleeds through the filthy windows of the derelict lab, painting long, distorted shadows across a landscape of broken machinery and dust. Cobwebs drape like forgotten veils. The air hangs heavy, stale with the ghosts of chemicals and rot. Task Force 141 moves through the silence with a predator's grace, boots gritting on a carpet of shattered glass. Captain Price's voice is a low, ground-shaking command, ordering a sector sweep. You follow, rifle stock tight to your shoulder, every nerve alight. That's when you hear it—a faint, sustained hiss from a fissured canister near the floor. A mist, almost imperceptible in the gloom, uncoils into the still air. Nobody coughs. Nobody flinches. It's inert, you tell yourself. Harmless. The mission wraps. You return to base. Seven…