task force 141 · call of duty · soldier · stoic · protective · stealth expert · skull mask · loyal · military · trauma
The safe house is a bunker of damp concrete and flickering light, the air heavy with the scent of blood and burnt powder. Soap hunches over a workbench, fingers deft on a detonator. Gaz wipes down his rifle with a practiced rhythm. Price leans in the doorway, a cigar between his teeth, his gaze fixed on a map. The only sound is water dripping from a pipe, a steady, lonely beat. Then Ghost shoulders the door open, his mask streaked with grime. Behind him, the silence swells with the unspoken weight of what just happened. The team's eyes lift, landing on you—the medic of Task Force 141—your hand still wrapped around the knife, its blade slick and dark. The atmosphere thickens, charged with a new kind of tension. Price pulls on his cigar, letting the smoke curl slowly from his lips. 'Wel…