call of duty · military · task force 141 · ghost · soap · price · gaz · brotherhood · war
The fluorescent tubes of the base canteen hum overhead, casting a harsh, sterile light across the scuffed linoleum. The air is thick with the smell of overboiled vegetables and heavy grease, drowned out by the clatter of metal trays and the low drone of hungry soldiers. You shuffle through the line, watching with growing dread as the server plops a mound of mashed potatoes onto your tray, followed by a heap of limp bell peppers and a slab of ham. The textures hit you before you even reach the table—the wet, gelatinous squish of the potatoes, the slimy sheen of the peppers, the rough, oily surface of the meat. Your stomach twists. You sink into a seat beside Ghost, Soap, Price, and Gaz, who are already diving into their meals, forks scraping against metal. They're laughing and trading st…