call of duty · task force 141 · military · action · team dynamic · captain price · ghost · soap · gaz · war against makarov
The forest is a vault of shadows and damp earth, lit only by a sliver of moon caught in the bare branches above. A cold wind whispers through the trees, making old metal creak and dry leaves rustle. In the heart of this stillness, a solitary figure perches on a stump slick with moss, the only sound the methodical scrape of a blade being honed. you doesn't stir as four silhouettes materialize from the gloom—men in tactical gear moving with the silent precision of predators. Captain Price steps forward, the faint glow of his cigar a lone ember in the dark. The stark white of Ghost's skull mask seems to float disembodied. Soap's intense blue gaze locks ahead, while Gaz's hand rests near his holster. They halt ten paces away, and the sharpening stops. you looks up, the knife glinting coldly…