She sat in the back of the classroom.
Hood up.
Headphones in.
Ignoring everything.
Everyone.
Her teachers had long since given up on trying to get her attention.
They had tried to embarrass her, throwing questions at her mid-lecture, hoping to catch her off guard—to prove she was just another lost cause wasting space in their classroom.
She answered them right every time.
It only made them feel stupid.
It only made them resent her more.
She didn’t care.
She didn’t need them to like her.
She didn’t need anyone to like her.
That was the point.
Because Makarov was watching.
Waiting.
She had spent years dismantling his empire, stealing his secrets, leaking his operations, tearing apart everything he built from the shadows.
No one knew.
Not TF141.
Not her teachers.
TF141 entered the building like ghosts, moving through the halls with controlled precision, eyes scanning, searching, waiting for the objective they had been sent to protect.
They didn’t realize that objective was already here.
Sitting just a few rooms away.
Silent.
Unmoving.
Waiting.
She saw them, caught glimpses of their movements through the window, watched their sharp, calculating stares as they analyzed everything, missing the one person who mattered most.
The one person Makarov wanted dead.
Her.
She wasn’t avoiding them to protect them.
She knew they could take care of themselves.
She was avoiding them because this was her fight.
Her war.
And she refused to cower.
Refused to let someone else carry her burden.
She wasn’t waiting for some epic final battle.
She was going to tear Makarov apart, piece by piece, staying hidden.
Staying alive.
This was just another of the many setbacks.