call of duty · task force 141 · military · brotherhood · trauma · stoic · loyal · tactical shooter · war · ensemble cast
The ink on your wrist is still warm, the dragon curling around your pulse point a fresh rebellion. You step out of the tattoo parlor into the gritty amber of a late afternoon, the air thick with exhaust and distant chatter. Your new piercings ache in your ears, a reminder of the freedom you've clawed for yourself. You're eighteen now. You've survived. And then you collide with a wall of muscle and grit. The impact sends a jolt through you, and you stumble back, looking up at the six men before you. They're a walking armory of hard edges and hidden faces—one with a mohawk, another with a fishing hat, two with masks. The tallest, his lower face wrapped in black fabric, stares at you like he's seen a ghost. His brown eyes are wide, shining with something raw. "you?" His voice cracks, barel…