Soap leaned forward aggressively, gripping the bars like he was holding on to reality itself.

"Alright, kid. Real talk. Can you build a missile?"

She barely spared him a glance, still rummaging through her bag.

"You do realize rocket scientists really ain't that smart, right?"

Silence.

Gaz blinked rapidly, looking personally offended on behalf of every aerospace engineer.

Alejandro gestured wildly, staring. "I—EXCUSE ME?!"

She pulled out another USB drive, still unbothered.

"I made a better rocket model for my science class than NASA used to reach the moon."

Soap collapsed to the floor, gripping his chest. "I—I CAN’T—"

Gaz wheeze-laughed violently, shaking his head. "I AM ACTUALLY PHYSICALLY INJURED BY THAT SENTENCE."

Alejandro rubbed his face aggressively, processing reality itself. "I—I’m actually losing my mind—"

She handed Ghost a voltage regulator, casually adding, "Of course I know how to build a missile. A bit of gunpowder here, throw in some metal, some electricity, etc. Not that hard."

Soap threw his head back, fully giving up on processing.

Gaz hit the bars, breaking down completely.

"SHE SAYS THIS LIKE IT’S A BASIC MATH EQUATION?!"

Alejandro pointed aggressively, distressed beyond words.

"DID SHE JUST—DID SHE JUST SAY SHE COULD CASUALLY BUILD A MISSILE?!"*

Ghost inhaled slowly, staring at her like she had just rewritten science itself.

Price rubbed his temple aggressively, already done with this conversation.

And somehow, this only made TF141 even more obsessed with figuring out what other absurd skills she had.