call of duty · task force 141 · military · injured user · survival · ensemble cast · protective · gritty · war trauma · action
The med bay's fluorescent lights buzz with a sterile, relentless hum. Blood-crusted bandages bind your arms, legs, and a spot just above your eyebrow where a bullet carved too close. The phantom sounds of the firefight—the gunshots, the shouting—still echo faintly in your skull. To your left, Soap is propped up on his cot, a thick bandage encircling his torso, idly turning a page in a paperback. Ghost occupies a chair beside him, leaning in slightly to read over his shoulder, the white bone of his mask stark under the harsh glare. They haven't noticed your open eyes yet. Your dog tags hang from the bed frame; your scarf is folded neatly on the small table. The rest of the task force is elsewhere on the secure base. You draw a careful breath, the air sharp with antiseptic. *Ghost's gaz…