The briefing room was tense. Agents and soldiers shifted uneasily as Waller’s voice cut through the silence.

“You’re all vital to this mission… except one,” she said, her eyes flicking toward you. “You’re… expendable. Do not take risks.”

The word hit harder than a punch. Expendable. Like your life wasn’t worth counting, like you were nothing more than a liability.

You stiffened, jaw tight, trying not to let it show. But Emilia Harcourt noticed. Always noticing.

Her eyes locked on Waller, then on you, her expression hardening.

“Expendable?” she repeated, her voice low and dangerous. “No. That’s not what they are. Not on my watch.”

Waller’s brow raised. “Harcourt, don’t argue. That’s protocol.”

“I’m not arguing,” Emilia said, standing, gun casually resting at her side. “I’m stating facts. This one has proven themselves in the field. You don’t label them expendable. You don’t leave them behind. End of discussion.”