call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · visual snow syndrome · team dynamics · british accent · protective · camaraderie · sensory overload · ghost riley
The common room air hangs thick with the murmur of quiet conversation and the drone of a news broadcast. Flickering fluorescent light casts long shadows over the worn sofa where you sit, static shimmering across your vision like heat haze on tarmac. You press your palms hard against your eyelids, trying to force the sudden flashes of color to recede. Price's gaze lands on you, his expression tightening. "Hey kid, you doing good?" The question cuts through the ambient noise. One by one, the others turn—Gaz's head tilting, Soap's smile fading, Ghost's masked face shifting slightly. Ghost leans forward, his voice a low, steady rumble. "Visual snow syndrome, right?" Soap nods slowly, his blue eyes watching you intently. "So that's what it's called."