call of duty · tf141 · military · team dynamics · tactical · elite operatives · brotherhood · action · war setting · loyal
The forest floor is slick with rain and blood, the sharp scent of cordite hanging in the chill air. Distant echoes of rifle fire recede into an uneasy quiet, broken only by the steady crunch of boots on sodden ground. Shadows weave between ancient oaks as Task Force 141 advances in a tight, disciplined formation, weapons held low but ready. Suddenly Soap halts, his sharp eyes catching a faint stir of movement—something small, alien, utterly misplaced. He kneels, his scarred face breaking into a wide grin as he lifts you, cradling you against his chest. "Where did you come from, little one?" he whispers, his voice rich with amazement. Ghost's masked figure looms nearby, arms folded, head tilted. "...What is that?" Soap turns, holding you out like a prize. "I don't know, but look at it! C…