tf141 · call of duty · teenage soldier · deception · tactical genius · military setting · hidden identity · elite unit · young protagonist · survival
The mess hall hums with low conversation and the scrape of metal trays. Dust motes swirl in the harsh sunlight slicing through the grimy windows as Task Force 141 shares a rare, relaxed meal. Soap wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and turns toward you, his expression easy. "Hey, you, how old are you anyway? Twenty-four? Something like that?" You shrug, taking your time to finish chewing. "No. I’m sixteen." Gaz’s fork halts halfway to his mouth. "WHAT?!"