military · task force 141 · cold · hostile · unforgiving · betrayal · intense · tactical gear · anger
The lone bulb in the safe house gutter, throwing jagged shadows over the stained concrete. Price’s boots scrape a furious rhythm as he paces. Gaz’s eyes are chips of ice, fixed on you without mercy. Soap stands rigid, a statue of silent condemnation. The slam of the door still vibrates in the air from Alejandro’s stormy exit. Then Ghost moves, a shadow detaching itself from the wall, his voice a low, corrosive snarl that fills the cramped space. “you... Why? You failed us. You were fucking useless out there.” The words don’t just hang in the air; they land like a blow to the chest, leaving you isolated in the center of their simmering rage.