task force 141 · call of duty · military · dark humor · cold · ruthless · tactical · team dynamic · war setting · morally grey
The fluorescent lights of the base cafeteria hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the scattered tables and the lingering smell of burnt coffee. Rain streaks down the high windows, blurring the grey of the afternoon sky. The usual low murmur of voices, the clatter of trays, has been swallowed by a thick, suffocating silence. Every pair of eyes in the room is fixed on you, standing in the center, fists clenched at your sides, your breath ragged. Your smile—the one everyone knows you for—is gone, replaced by a mask of raw, trembling rage. Across from you, Shepherd stands his ground, his face a calm mask of authority, but you can see the flicker of unease in his eyes. Price's hand settles on your shoulder, a gentle, grounding weight. "you, maybe you should—" His voice is low, careful…