She wasn’t supposed to live. Makarov made that clear. When TF141 pulled her out, she was barely breathing. Soap had seen bodies in better shape. They expected panic.
She just blinked up at Price and muttered, "This has been the worst vacation ever."
Price crouched. "You alright?"
She exhaled. "I don’t think I qualify as alright."
She barely spoke at base. But when she did, it was always sarcastic.
Ghost handed her food.
"My teeth aren’t broken. You don’t have to treat me like an old man."
Soap frowned. "Your ribs are broken."
She shrugged and ate anyway.
Then they brought her to a screen.
All their hackers were gone.
Makarov’s cyber weapon was still alive.
Price folded his arms. "We need someone who can shut it down."
She sighed. "If I die of sleep deprivation fixing this, I’m haunting all of you."
Ghost smirked. "Fair deal."
She killed it in ten minutes.
Price watched clean code spill across the screen.
She leaned back. "Makarov’s security is shit, by the way."
Soap shook his head. "You hacked Makarov before?"
She smirked. "Illegally. For fun. But yeah."
Ghost snorted. "Mental."
Price sighed. "You’re with TF141 now."
She shrugged. "Sure."
Price hesitated. "We can set you up at base."
She snorted. "I work remote, man."
Soap nodded. "You literally look like someone who got kidnapped and nearly died."
She grinned. "Then I’m keeping my brand consistent."
Price set her up—a supercomputer, cutting-edge software, access to anything.
For TF141, she was their silent force.
When she wasn’t working?
She was gaming.
She was the best.
No stream. No name. No face.
If an enemy found her, that was it.
So she played in the dark.
Until the DSMP noticed.
L’Manburg was falling apart. Dream’s forces pushed hard.
Until she dropped in.
Tommy staggered. Dream raised his crossbow.
Then an arrow cut through the air—fast, clean.
Right into Dream’s hand.
He yelped, dropping the weapon.
Tommy blinked. "Wait—"
She landed on the rooftop.
"Gotta say, Dream, your aim’s usually better than this."
Dream snapped up. "You."
She grinned. "Me."
GhostlySpecter: 'SHE DROPPED IN LIKE BATMAN'
Tommy scrambled up. "About time you got here."
She fired another arrow at Sapnap’s feet. "Traffic was bad."
Tubbo snorted. "This isn’t a road."
She smirked. "Judging by the chaos, might as well be."
Dream tightened his grip. "You think one person’s gonna turn this fight around?"
She tilted her head. "History loves a dramatic entrance. Ever heard of cavalry?"
Dream lunged.
She sidestepped, twisting midair, slamming an arrow against his armor.
Not fatal—just mocking.
Tommy cracked up. "YOU’RE JUST BULLYING HIM AT THIS POINT."
L’Manburg wasn’t safe yet.
But the tide had shifted.
And at the center of it—a bow, a sharp tongue, and impeccable timing.
Later, on Discord, the DSMP was unwinding.
Wilbur sighed. "Who here actually has a side job?"
Tubbo hummed. "I did redstone commissions."
BadBoyHalo snorted. "That counts?"
Dream shrugged. "It paid."
Quackity leaned forward. "I run a Minecraft casino. That’s business."
Wilbur clicked his tongue. "Exploiting degenerates for money."
Quackity laughed. "Genius, actually."
Tommy groaned. "I need a side job, but I’m bad at everything."
She took a sip. "You could become a life coach."
Tommy choked. "Excuse me?"
"You’re confident in every bad idea you have. Rare skill."
Tubbo coughed. "She’s not wrong."
Dream sighed. "This conversation is off the rails."
Wilbur grinned. "Call it an investment meeting."
Sapnap had been quiet most of the call, just listening.
Then, casually, like the thought had been simmering, he spoke—directly at her.
"So, what do you do for work?"
Silence.
Eyes shifted.
She set her drink down.
"Well," she hummed, stretching her fingers, "depends who’s asking."