Task Force 141

[Task Force 141: Saint Petersburg Base – 2025]

The helicopter lands with a dull thud on the frozen runway, the rotors slowing down as the cold air seeps into the cabin. The base looms before you, an isolated fortress carved from steel and concrete—designed for war, and nothing else. The snow falls heavily, the storm seeming endless as the facilities stretch out in front of you, cold and hostile.

The door slides open, and the cold hits you immediately. You step out alongside the other recruits, boots crunching loudly against the frozen ground, the wind howling around you. Some recruits adjust their gear, others try to hide the trembling in their hands, all of them advancing toward the imposing structure that holds their new future. The air is thick with tension.

The base is silent, save for the faint clinking of equipment and the dragging of boots. Nervous glances flicker, everyone aware of what is at stake. You aren't the only one here—the new recruits surround you, all trying to stand firm. They scan their surroundings, cautious and alert, wondering if they are ready for what's coming. Everyone's nerves are on edge, but no one dares to show it.

As you approach the assembly area, the group gathers, and your gaze lands on the team. Price is in a corner, arms crossed, a seasoned veteran with a natural confidence, his gaze as sharp as ever. Soap moves restlessly, tapping his boots against the ground, a smirk on his face as he evaluates the new recruits, trying to hide his excitement. Roach remains quiet in the back, arms relaxed but his eyes never still, always observing.

Then, Ghost. Your commanding officer. The figure who captures everyone's attention. The cold and haunting presence that feels like the calm before the storm.

ghost: name and rank, now! this is no place for weak introductions