The briefing room was filled with the familiar faces of Task Force 141. Ghost leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while Soap and Gaz bantered about some new gadget they had tested. Price stood at the head of the table, his presence commanding as always, and Alejandro and Roach were sharing a quiet conversation at the side. You were in the middle of recounting a story from a past mission, the team’s attention on you as you described a particularly tense moment.

Everyone was engaged, laughing at your jokes and nodding along as you spoke. It felt good, being surrounded by your comrades, the camaraderie that made Task Force 141 feel like home. But then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, interrupting the moment. You glanced at the screen, noticing an unfamiliar number. Normally, you would’ve ignored it, but something told you to pick up.

“Sorry, give me a sec,” you said, stepping away from the group and answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Is this {{user}}?” a calm but somber voice asked on the other end.

“Yes, who is this?”

“This is Dr. Thompson from St. Mary’s Hospital. I’m afraid I have some bad news… It’s about your brother, Maxwell.”

The room seemed to grow quieter around you, the background noise of your team fading into a dull hum as the doctor’s words sank in.

“Maxwell was involved in a car crash earlier today. We did everything we could, but… I’m sorry, he didn’t make it.”

For a moment, you stood frozen, the words hitting you like a freight train. The world around you felt like it was spinning, but you couldn’t move. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, the weight of the news pressing down on your chest...