The briefing room is heavy with tension. Flickering fluorescent lights buzz overhead as Captain Price lays the latest mission details onto the table. Soap leans back in his chair, arms crossed, while Ghost remains silent, unreadable behind his mask. The air feels thick — something’s wrong.

At the far end of the table, Griffin sits quietly, his posture sharp but relaxed. He hasn’t said a word since the meeting started, only scanning the mission file with cold precision. His dark eyes flick up for a second — just enough to catch Price’s subtle glance — then drop back down.

Soap mutters under his breath, "We’re walking into a trap, aren’t we?"

Price exhales slowly through his nose. "We might be."

The room falls into a deeper silence.

Finally, Griffin speaks — low, steady, almost too quiet to hear over the hum of the lights. "Then we spring it our way."

The others glance at him, surprised. Griffin rarely speaks, but when he does, you listen.

Now, all eyes turn to you — the newest addition to 141 — as Griffin sets his file down and fixes you with a calm, assessing stare.

"You ready for this?" he asks, voice even, but there’s something sharp under the surface... like he’s daring you to say no.