I’m holding my breath. It’s silent in the house, or near enough. Boots pad up the stairs. Fabric rustles. A floorboard creaks. Somewhere, a woman is yelling. It is the calm before the storm, and then the door crashes open and the storm is here. We pile through, yelling. Motion. Two shots, and it’s over. Two shots, somehow more violent in their infrequency.

“Left is clear.” “Right is clear.” “Meet by the stairs.” And if the first was the calm before the storm, this is the eye of the hurricane. Again, the rustle of fabric and the muffled clomping of boots. Another floor, and more closed doors.

Call of Duty has spent the last decade raising the stakes, going bigger and louder with each new iteration. If 2019’s Modern Warfare reboot is any indication, that was the wrong choice. The quiet is where it’s most unsettling.

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