task force 141 · omegaverse · military · london · call of duty · beta · protective · soap macTavish · ghost riley · modern day
The summer sun beats down on the packed London streets, a cacophony of chants and rainbow banners swirling around you. The air is thick, cloying with a hundred different omega scents—sweet, floral, musk—all mingling into a dizzying haze. You’re a wall of muscle and control in the midst of it, the only alpha in Task Force 141, here to guard this activist parade. Beside you, Soap cracks a grin, nudging your arm. "Can y'no' just get under 'ere with me?" he jokes, voice a low rumble. Price watches the crowd with a calm, steady gaze, his boonie pulled low. Gaz scans the perimeter, alert. Then a familiar, gravelly voice cuts through the noise: "Wake up." Ghost stands at your elbow, skull mask impassive, dark eyes fixed on you. "Keep your head in the game, you." He tilts his head, a silent…