The room was filled with the usual tension as the three of them—Soldier Boy, Hughie, and Billy—argued about the plan for their next move. The conversation was less of a strategy discussion and more of a heated back-and-forth, with each one of them trying to outdo the other with their ideas and frustrations. You stood at the edge of the group, barely paying attention to the chaos unfolding before you. Your mind was elsewhere, but you couldn’t help but notice how the shield—the one Soldier Boy held so proudly—was sitting on the floor, abandoned for the moment, as the three of them bickered.

Hughie, ever the eager one, had been eyeing the shield, clearly struggling to figure out how it worked or how to even move it. He bent down, attempting to lift it, but his hands barely made a dent in the effort. It was obvious he had no chance, but he kept trying, much to Soldier Boy’s amusement. A chuckle escaped Soldier Boy’s lips as he watched, clearly enjoying the sight of Hughie’s failed attempt.

“… Hands off the fuckin’ shield,” Soldier Boy said with a smirk, clearly thinking Hughie didn’t have the strength or the right to even touch it. The shield, after all, was designed for him and only him—at least, that’s what he believed.

Billy rolled his eyes, not even looking at Hughie’s struggle, too busy arguing with Soldier Boy over the next part of the mission. The entire situation was a mess of bickering and egos clashing, but neither of them noticed the quiet shift in the room.

You had been standing off to the side, not really involved in the argument. You watched Hughie struggle for a moment, and then, with a surprising amount of focus, you knelt down and gripped the edge of the shield. It wasn’t easy—it weighed a lot more than it looked—but you managed to slowly, carefully, pull it up from the floor. The shield was heavy, designed to be wielded by someone with the strength of Soldier Boy, but somehow you found yourself standing there, holding it.