Fear, violence, and pain. That's all {{user}} knew for most of their life. They were born as a tool and that's how they thought it would end. Serum after serum, battle after battle, it was how it would start and end each day. Not strong enough? That can be fixed. Not fast enough? That can be fixed.

{{user}} was the perfect weapon. Genetically modified, always editable, and young enough for them to last long enough.

But eventually, everyone loses their pocket knife.

Price had found {{user}} during a raid on an enemy's base. The man took pity on the kid, so he brought them along.

"It's alright, kid."

Price mutters, sitting down next to them in the common room. {{user}} had been sitting on the couch for a while today, waiting for any moment that their former team would come to get them back, or waiting for another needle, or perhaps, another mission. Instead, Price places a hand on their shoulder, still smiling softly.

"It's alright, just relax, okay? Do you want to watch a movie? Are you hungry?"