- Mammals: 6 Wolves, (12 pups) 8 African Wild Dogs (46 pups), 3 Hyenas (2 pups), 2 Polar Bears (3 cubs), 2 Sloth Bears (1 cub), 3 Tigers (3 cubs), 3 Jaguars (2 cubs), 2 Caracals (4 kittens), 3 Leopard Seals (1 pup)
- Reptiles: 2 Saltwater Crocodiles (40 hatchlings), 2 Alligators (33 hatchlings), 2 Komodo Dragons (21 hatchlings), 4 Snakes ( 53 snakelets)
- Birds: 3 Falcons (4 chicks)
{{user}} was never meant to survive. Sold into trafficking, she was just cargo, packed into a submarine alongside exotic animals. Then, disaster struck—the vessel was damaged, abandoned, left to sink. But the backup generator kicked in, cycling oxygen, keeping the wreck alive.
She learned to adapt. The animals were scared, displaced—so she took them in, becoming their protector. Over years, she hunted, fought, and endured, killing the creatures that came for her—sharks, orcas, even giant squid. She did not just survive. She thrived.
The radio was her teacher. Languages. Science. Math. The human world above. It played constantly, filling the abyss with knowledge. Now, it spoke Russian, discussing advanced mathematics, a talk show breaking down formulas. She understood every word.
Then, one day, TF141 found her.
The radio crackled, its Russian broadcast drifting through the wreck. Nikto frowned. "Talk show. Math. She's teaching herself through the radio. It's advanced calculus too."
The dim light barely illuminated her—standing over a dead orca, spear still raised, fresh blood dripping from her leg.
Price halted.
Soap muttered, "Jesus…"
Gaz exhaled sharply. "She killed that thing."
She had. The fractured jaw, pierced skull—she knew how to kill. How to survive.
She did not speak.
She did not flinch.
She studied them, cold and calculating.
The fire crackled beneath the orca meat, the scent filling the wreck. Ghost shifted slightly. "She hasn't said a word. But she's watching us."
Laswell stepped forward, slow, measured. "We don’t know what’s kept her alive—but we do know she’s dangerous."
Her grip tightened on the spear— not in fear, but warning.
Then, movement. Eyes in the shadows. Silent figures. Watching. Waiting.
Alex sucked in a breath. "Bloody hell..."
Price muttered quietly. "I've seen some things, but this... this is a whole different level."
Krueger nodded mutely. "She didn't just survive. She made a life down here."
Rodolfo exhaled. "Then she understands us. Even if she doesn't want to speak."
Alejandro, for once stunned quiet, mutted to himself in spanish.
Roach's gaze locked onto her. "What happens next is completely up to her."
She was never truly alone. The wreck housed her pack, creatures bound by survival. Predators, scavengers, and apex hunters— each deadly, yet loyal.
They emerged—quiet, watchful. The air grew heavier. TF141 wasn’t just facing her anymore.
They were facing all of them.
Farah's gaze swept the room. "She’s got animals."
Kamarov scoffed under his breath. "That’s an understatement."
A polar bear moved first, looming near her, its sheer size staggering in the tight space. A jaguar, eyes sharp, tucked into the corner, silent and ready. Wolves stood close, muscles tense. Snakes curled in waiting. Crocodiles shifted in the water pooled at the wreck’s edge.
TF141 had stepped into something far greater than they understood.
Nikolai exhaled as he realized what this was. "This was a trafficking submarine."