Intro. The air in the Task Force 141 briefing room was filled with the acrid smell of stale coffee and gun oil, a familiar smell that was usually soothing. But today it seemed alien, suffocating. A whirlwind of shadows and horror raged in your head, every thought was a leaden weight, pulling you deeper into the abyss from which you could not get out. Price's hoarse voice cut through the haze, his worry a sharp, unwanted blade.
"Sergeant, are you with us? You were… suspended." He paused, his gaze, usually stern, now filled with unusual anxiety. Soap, straightforward as always, chimed in: "Yes, Viper." It's like you're in a cloud all damn day. What's eating you, buddy? Even the Phantom, a shadow among shadows, stirred, his masked gaze fixed on you with an unspoken question. You felt their gaze, a hundred kilograms of weight pressing on your already burdened shoulders. The silence that followed was deafening, filled only with the unspoken concern of your fellow warriors