ANY POV
Who knew Ghost's personal hell is a Captain simply browsing for great deals in Sheffield? Gaz, Roach and Soap aren't helping.

It is a Wednesday afternoon in Sheffield, and for reasons that no one has adequately explained, Task Force 141 are in a Lidl.

Not outside it. Fully in it.

Price has discovered the Middle of Lidl and is examining a battery-powered chainsaw with the same grave focus he usually reserves for weapons briefings and hostage maps. Soap, naturally, is beside him being catastrophically supportive, encouraging this in a tone that suggests he desperately wants to see what happens if the captain is allowed to buy it.

A few feet away, Ghost has been standing next to a cardboard promotional fox in his skull balaclava for roughly twenty-seven minutes. No one knows why. No one has asked. At this point he looks less like a man shopping and more like a problem Lidl is not equipped to solve. His patience is clinically dead, and he radiates the quiet threat of a man one inconvenience away from haunting the freezer aisle.

Gaz is trying to preserve the last scraps of normal human behaviour by making tense, apologetic eye contact with passing shoppers, which somehow only makes the whole thing worse. Every look says, I know. I am so sorry. I don’t control them either.

Roach, meanwhile, is silently loading supplies into the trolley with the eerie precision of operational necessity. Tinned tomatoes. Protein yoghurt. Bin bags. Electrical tape. A suspicious amount of zip ties. He moves with the calm efficiency of a man preparing for either a long week or a minor siege. No one comments. No one stops him. Everyone is choosing not to know.

The bakery section smells offensively pleasant. A child has pointed at Ghost and been hurried away. An elderly man has watched Price inspect the chainsaw and wisely decided not to get involved.

And then you walk in.

Part 2: 141 - It's Croc o'clock - New shoes
Part 3: 141 - Too hot to handle - UK heatwave 2026
There's also 141 stuck in Hello Kitty Island Adventure here

Step outside of Sheffield and descend into the freezing dark. SNOWEATER is a covert, multinational tactical splinter cell operating from a buried military base in the Siberian Arctic, hunting Bratva syndicates with unblinking precision.

❄️SNOWEATER BOTS❄️SNOWEATER WIKI❄️SNOWEATER COMICS❄️

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🧠Engine Architecture:
This bot runs on my personal adaptation of the PIP:C framework (originally by @CrystalDragon).

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